


we're electric, babe

by orangypop



Series: i just want to be loved [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: "bad boy" hyuck, Alternate Universe - High School, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Lovers, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan & Lee Taeyong Are Siblings, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan & Mark Lee Are Siblings, M/M, Polyamory, cheer captain jaem, nahyuckhei tinhatters rise, nerdy jock yukhei
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 35,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24798418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangypop/pseuds/orangypop
Summary: but it’s not just for a ridiculous bet that donghyuck’s trying his best at this self-improvement thing. he genuinelywantsto be a better person, to make things easier for taeyong, and easier on himself, honestly. if he could just keep his big mouth shut and stop letting his hot-headedness overcome all rationality, making it to the end of the semester detention-free would be a breeze.but thanks to yukhei, he’s already one strike down—and if jaemin keeps it up, it’ll be two when donghyuck inevitably beats his ass.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Na Jaemin, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Na Jaemin/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas, Na Jaemin/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas
Series: i just want to be loved [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1802152
Comments: 102
Kudos: 105





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hyuckhei + nahyuck + jaemcas(?) = hot-headed disaster gays  
> this is such a niche, out of the blue pairing but ?? their cliche hs drama dynamics ?? are so enticing ?? pls enjoy and consider helping me nurture this newborn ship tag (and let me know what you think abt this uwu)

every morning, donghyuck considers writing a multi-paragraph, mla-formatted argumentative essay on why “morning flower” is the worst piece of music to ever be composed.

this lovely saturday morning is no exception, as he blearily opens his eyes and blinks owlishly at his phone, which is blaring that cursed alarm at full volume. from the bed across the room, mark mumbles something like _turn that the fuck off_ , and donghyuck complies. slowly, he throws off the mountain of covers he swaddled himself in and begins to get dressed. at seven in the morning. on the weekend.

it feels like he’s committing a criminal offense.

of course he may as well have already, as clearly taeyong seems to think so; the entire car ride to school, he clucks his tongue and reprimands donghyuck like he has been for the better half of a week now: _donghyuck lee, in saturday detention_ again _; we’ve talked about this, hyuck; you started the year off so well, and now you’re slipping back into old habits;_ etcetera etcetera.

donghyuck tries his best to ignore his nagging brother and picks at a hole that’s forming in the leg of his sweatpants. he’s also wearing an oversized hoodie from his and mark’s shared sweatshirt pile. it’s a far cry from his usual over-the-top attire, but donghyuck can’t be bothered to put effort into his appearance for detention, even if yukhei wong will be there.

yukhei wong is the one detail donghyuck has calculatedly left out of a number of stories that typically end with donghyuck mortally wounding himself or nearly setting something on fire. ever since yukhei wong came back to school last year with acne-free skin, a new, coiffed haircut, a darker tan, and a six-pack he’d spent a good three months flaunting all over instagram, donghyuck’s nerves have gone haywire around him. the dude is a damn curse.

but donghyuck does _not_ have some juvenile crush. and if he did, it wouldn’t be on _yukhei wong_ , of all people. the yukhei wong donghyuck knows from middle school is nothing worth crushing over. the yukhei wong donghyuck knows still has braces, and a really loud, almost barking laugh, and has sat on the bench for the entirety of every basketball season to date because he instinctively ducks whenever the ball comes his way. the yukhei wong donghyuck knows never _shuts the fuck up_. he thinks that loudly announcing _if the teacher doesn’t show up in the next 15 minutes, we’re legally allowed to leave_ is the pinnacle of humor.

the yukhei wong that donghyuck doesn’t know (and has decided he doesn’t _want_ to) is currently sitting in his fancy convertible donghyuck doesn’t know the name of, scrolling through his phone. taeyong parks his dilapidated minivan right beside it and yukhei looks up instinctively, and his face flits through a series of emotions before settling on a hesitant smile.

donghyuck scowls.

taeyong doesn’t notice this, and donghyuck is silently grateful, because he would have scolded him. he’s busy frantically fussing with the bluetooth connection, on which donghyuck had started blaring inappropriate music from his phone that he doesn’t even like just to annoy the shit out of mr. kim, the saturday detention proctor. and it’s definitely done the job, because he’s standing in front of the library’s back entrance with his arms crossed, looking at donghyuck with a look of utter dissatisfaction over the rims of his glasses. donghyuck flashes him a fake smile, and flutters his lashes for good measure. mr. kim’s eye twitches.

taeyong glares up at mr. kim. as much as he disapproves of donghyuck’s behavior, the sight of his old high school nemesis brings out a small, rarely seen dark side of him. “this ends at 12, right?” he says, once he’s successfully disabled the bluetooth. “should i pick you up?”

“nah, i’ll just go to jeno’s,” donghyuck lies, and throws his backpack over his shoulder. another sucky thing about saturday detentions apart from waking up early on the weekend: it’s mandatory to do homework there, as if assuming that kids that frequently end up in saturday detention _wouldn’t_ do their homework otherwise. (in donghyuck’s case that’s completely true, but hey, stereotyping is harmful, alright?)

he opens the car door at the same yukhei decides to open his, and they nearly knock into each other. taeyong sucks in a sharp breath. they are the last people who need to be at the other end of a lawsuit for property damage right now.

yukhei, wide-eyed and already intimidated by donghyuck as it is, quickly closes the door enough for donghyuck to get out first. donghyuck’s scowl deepens and he slams the door behind him on taeyong’s indignant _donghyuck lee!_ , not waiting up for yukhei as he strides over to mr. kim.

“good morning, guys,” mr. kim says, sounding about as thrilled as donghyuck feels. “mr. lee, you know the rules by now.”

“sure do, teach,” donghyuck drawls, and leads the way to the library while mr. kim fills in goody-two-shoes wong on the rules of saturday detention: no talking, no phones, one guaranteed bathroom break, a snack and water are permitted but must be consumed quietly, and you have to be doing something school related, blah blah blah. yukhei looks a little overwhelmed by it all, and donghyuck knows he must be; yukhei is an incessant talker, to the point where it’s a miracle he hasn’t been in detention before. this must sound like utter torture to him.

donghyuck tries to stamp down the miniscule feeling of guilt that stirs within him at the dejected look on yukhei’s face. it’s not like one detention will make a dent in his otherwise flawless school career. as idiotic as yukhei acts sometimes, he’s always on the honor roll, and is allegedly a shoe-in for any prestigious school he applies to this year, what with his perfect grades, his position on the basketball team, and overall tendency to overachieve.

well, his grades aren’t exactly perfect anymore, thanks to donghyuck and 3rd period ap physics with ms. kwon.

for all his underachieving, donghyuck actually considers himself to be rather proficient in the sciences, which is what landed him the spot in a traditionally seniors-only course. and he would be doing well in that class, too, if it weren’t for the fact that yukhei, a senior and someone donghyuck hasn’t had to deal with since p.e. his freshman year, is his lab partner for the year. it’s only been a month into the new school year, but they’ve constantly been reprimanded for arguing, purposely messing up their results to sabotage each other, and most recently, accidentally ruining kunhang and dejun’s project when one argument in particular turned physical. hence why they’re in the situation they’re in right now.

donghyuck doesn’t know what it is about him that brings yukhei, usually kind and friendly to all, to the brink of punching his fucking lights out. but it’s fun to do, and admittedly kind of hot to watch, and one of donghyuck’s many talents is pushing the right buttons until his target snaps. living with two older brothers will do that to you.

right now, yukhei is on his best behavior, which donghyuck is sure only furthers mr. kim’s belief that donghyuck is solely responsible for yukhei being here, like yukhei didn’t instigate the fight in the first place. but donghyuck is used to mr. kim treating him like the spawn of satan, ever since he waltzed into detention his first day of freshman year and mr. kim realized donghyuck was related to taeyong, the former bane of his existence when they were in high school together or whatever. donghyuck is just happy to continue the lee tradition.

it’s not like donghyuck’s doing himself any favors, though. his casual, almost pajama-esque attire just affirms how little he cares. on any other day, he would probably be reprimanded by at least a dozen teachers for this outfit (sweatpants are off-limits to everyone, for some ridiculous reason). his regular clothes aren’t anything teachers are crazy about as it is, but at least they don’t violate the ridiculous dress code.

meanwhile, yukhei looks no different than he does during any other school day. 4 out of 5 days of the week (5 out of 7, as it stands now), yukhei wears solid-colored ralph lauren polos and perfectly pressed khakis. on fridays (aka game days, if you identify with the meatheads that take up roughly a third of the school) he wears a button up, tie and dress pants. either combination gets donghyuck’s stupid stomach fluttering faster than a hummingbird’s wings.

and not only is he cursed with yukhei as his lab partner this year, but he also has the misfortune of walking past yukhei between every. fucking. period.

it doesn’t matter much; yukhei never notices him, always surrounded by his friends from the basketball team or from the multitude of clubs he’s in. he has friends in every corner of the school. meanwhile, donghyuck only has jeno and mark, and without them by his side he’s stalking the hallways on his own, an invisible 3-foot bubble surrounding him as everyone avoids him like the plague.

donghyuck doesn’t know what’s all that intimidating about him. it couldn’t possibly be the purple dye and glitter tinsel in his parted hair, the eyebrow slit and accommodating piercing, the smoked-out brown eyeliner, the distressed jeans, the permanent scowl, the airpods blaring indie punk, and the general attitude that just screams trouble when he traverses the hallways, could it?

it takes a lot of effort to look like he doesn’t give a shit, but it keeps everyone at arm’s length, so donghyuck keeps up appearances. as he sits at what’s been his usual table for the last few years and watches yukhei’s eyes scan the room before deciding to sit at the table right next to donghyuck’s, he realizes that it hasn’t quite worked on everyone.

yukhei is clearly nervous, like mr. kim’s going to lecture them or something when in reality he’s going to sit at the other end of the room and grade papers or something while eating funyuns. but he probably just wants to be close to the one thing that’s familiar in this situation: and unfortunately for both of them, that thing is donghyuck.

as expected, mr. kim sits at the librarian’s desk, pulls out his laptop, and immediately engrosses himself in his work. as often as he used to get into saturday detentions, donghyuck isn’t keen on getting more, so he sits in silence, one airpod hidden underneath his hood as he works on, ironically enough, physics homework. on the exact lab they had been working on when they fucked it up and got sent here. ms. kwon told them to meet up on their own time and finish the lab together, another form of punishment in itself, so like hell were they going to do that.

thankfully, donghyuck is a master at the art of bullshitting labs, and scribbles random data points in the chart in his lab journal. yukhei, however, is having trouble. donghyuck could recognize his hot pink journal a mile away (“it was the only one i could find on short notice!”), with the hearts and unicorns and other things 9-year-old girls probably love that donghyuck’s doodled on the cover in sharpie to get on yukhei’s nerves. of course it’s in yukhei’s nature not to lie, he thinks, as he watches him struggle to write something down out of the corner of his eye, plump bottom lip caught between his slightly crooked front teeth.

about an hour later, once he’s finished the lab notes, he clears his throat; quiet enough to sound genuine and not alert mr. kim, but loud enough to get yukhei to look over at him. wordlessly, donghyuck slides his journal to the end of the table, so that yukhei can outstretch his ridiculously lanky arm and grab it. _thanks,_ yukhei mouths, and donghyuck gives him a curt nod.

the next three hours pass in slow, unmitigated silence. donghyuck gnaws at his nails, a textbook in front of him that he pretends to be reading every time mr. kim does his cursory glance at the two of them. yukhei eventually finishes copying his lab notes and passes the journal back to him. in the margins, yukhei has left some doodles of skulls and gravestones, the kind of things donghyuck’s general aesthetic associates him with. it’s a small payback for the lisa frank shit that donghyuck plastered his notebook in, and it absolutely does _not_ make donghyuck bite back a smile.

he’s midway through chewing on a sticky, chocolatey protein bar yukhei hands him (he pulled a box of them from his backpack and donghyuck’s stomach had growled embarrassingly, so he handed him one, okay, just because donghyuck swallowed his pride and took it does _not_ mean he and yukhei are cool now, not by a long shot) when mr. kim’s alarm goes off, signifying that it’s finally noon and they’re free to go.

“i hope this taught you two a lesson,” he drones, like he hardly cares whether it did or not. yukhei nods, a little too enthusiastically. donghyuck just trudges to the exit.

“ _god,_ that was awful,” yukhei says as soon as they’re outside and walking to the parking lot. “i never want to go through that again; i don’t know how you do it.”

donghyuck blanches. he never realized yukhei paid enough attention to him to know how often he’s been in detention the last few years. his reputation precedes him, he supposes. “i’m not much of a talker,” he says lowly, voice a little hoarse. “and i get homework done.”

yukhei looks at him in disbelief. “donghyuck lee, you are….”

“a menace? a freak? unbelievably handsome?” donghyuck fills in.

yukhei shakes his head, though his cheeks heat up at the last one. donghyuck tries very hard not to linger on this. “...an enigma,” he says.

donghyuck doesn’t really know what to say to this. sure, he keeps up this troublemaker persona at school, but in reality, he’s not particularly interesting or mysterious. so, he just shrugs and keeps walking.

no one’s waiting for donghyuck in the parking lot, as expected; he’s got somewhere else to be, anyways. but yukhei pauses at the door of his fancy car, looking conflicted. “do you need a ride?”

donghyuck shakes his head immediately, trying not to feel bad at the crestfallen look on yukhei’s face. “i’m walking to my friend’s house,” he lies again. “he doesn’t live too far away.”

“oh, okay,” yukhei says quickly. “that’s okay, i just—didn’t want you to walk all the way home, but—if he lives close, then—that’s good,” he finishes lamely.

donghyuck can’t help but snort. as confident as he is around everyone else, and even as explosive as he gets around donghyuck in physics, this shy, stumbling over his words yukhei is a new side donghyuck has had yet to see.

it’s unfairly adorable.

“i’ll see you in class, yukhei,” he says, about to put his other airpod in and keep on walking, when yukhei’s voice stops him.

“thank you for finishing the lab, seriously,” yukhei tells him, looking somewhere just above donghyuck’s head. his fist is clenched at his side. “especially since it was my fault we didn’t finish it and ended up here, anyways.”

the donghyuck pre-detention would be sneering in yukhei’s face, gloating about how _no shit it’s your fault, thanks for finally admitting it, jackass._ but the donghyuck post-detention stands there, motionless for a second, before scrunching his mouth into an awkward smile. “no problem. it’s the least i can do for being a pain in your ass all the time.”

and pre-detention yukhei would probably do an equal amount of gloating. but the post-detention yukhei just smiles, the genuine, unabashed, megawatt one donghyuck’s seen directed at literally everyone else but him. and donghyuck lets his own tight smile loosen a little, lets his teeth show a bit before the thought of _what the hell am i doing_ crosses his mind and he blurts “see you,” again, very hurriedly this time, and turns around, leaving a disheartened yukhei behind.

  


🌩

  


it’s not that donghyuck is _ashamed_ to tell people he works at a burger joint or anything. he makes decent money for his age, and his coworkers aren’t as bad as many would assume—in fact, they’ve kind of adopted him. no, he just hasn’t told anyone because he’s kind of not allowed to have a job.

 _between a job and schoolwork, you’d just stress yourself out!_ is taeyong’s tried and true excuse every time donghyuck tries to argue with him about it. mark, ever the pushover, signed over his free will almost immediately and hasn’t looked back since. but donghyuck, in true donghyuck fashion, was difficult about it for awhile—until he realized he could just lie.

luckily, joohyun isn’t one of those godforsaken managers that requires a parent to vouch for the reliability of their kid. donghyuck had explained, very passionately, the importance of independence and financial stability to himself and his family, and how his oldest brother is incredibly stubborn when it comes to admitting just how thin his wallet is.

he only works on most friday nights and mornings/afternoons on weekends, but it’s been enough to buy a new pair of adidas superstars to replace the battered pair he’d managed to stretch his feet into for a good two years (he held a funeral for them and everything. it was very emotional. jeno gave a wonderful sermon).

it hasn’t been too hard to keep this a secret from taeyong. he uses the excuse that he’s spending the weekend at jeno’s, which is usually true anyways. jeno is such a great person; so great, in fact, that he’s willing to pick up donghyuck at midnight once the store closes to drive to his dad’s apartment to stay over, and then take him to work on saturday and sunday mornings. he’s the bestest friend donghyuck could ever ask for.

he’s used to walking to the store from school on friday afternoons, since jeno is busy at soccer practice, with an extra bag with him that contains everything he needs for work and staying over at jeno’s (though he shares so much with jeno at this point that he doesn’t really need to pack much for that). he changes into his uniform in the bathroom and clocks in at 12:30, slipping into the mind-numbing routine that is working in fast food.

he’s on front cash tonight, with yerim and seungwan in the kitchen and sooyoung on drive thru. it’s seulgi’s day off, and the guys, namely johnny and jaehyun, won’t show up until donghyuck leaves at 6, _and_ it’s not busy, _and_ he has tomorrow off, which means it’s _coddle and poke fun at donghyuck day_ , which he normally has no qualms with. until around 5:30, that is.

donghyuck has just come up front after being oh-so-threateningly reminded by joohyun that he does have a _job_ to do, he can’t talk shit with seungwan in the crew room all day, when the bell signifying someone entering the shop enters. he’s spaced out, staring somewhere at the counter, and goes through the usual script.

“hi, what can i get for y—”

na jaemin is leaning against the counter, hair perfectly windswept, face flushed just so, tight gymnastics clothing visible underneath his purple windbreaker. donghyuck’s mouth goes dry, voice dying in his throat.

“duckie!” he squeals, eyes wide and doe-like. the demeaning nickname echoes through the empty restaurant. he hears the distant sound of distinctive giggles—yerim, who’s no doubt listening from behind the fryer. he’s gripped with the sudden urge to grab jaemin by the shoulders and throttle him. “you work here? how... _adorable_!”

it’s most definitely _not_ and they both know it. donghyuck’s eye makeup is patchy from sweating and wiping a lot of it off, his bangs are sticking to his forehead underneath the brim of his work cap, and his uniform is stained with the chocolate milkshake he’d foolishly gotten all over himself earlier.

“what can I get for you?” donghyuck repeats, more forced this time.

“a large double cheeseburger meal, please,” jaemin says. his voice is sickeningly saccharine, full of underlying snide.

donghyuck is confused, but he punches in the order nonetheless. “didn’t you convert to veganism a few years ago, or whatever?” he can’t help but ask.

jaemin’s plastic smile grows a little tighter at the corners. “i’m a _vegetarian_ , sweetie. and even if i wasn’t, i wouldn’t eat _here_ ,” he scoffs. “i’m getting this for one of my squad members, she’s waiting for me in my car. she’s _suuuper_ sore from practice. i’m sure you can relate, what with... mopping floors, and everything.”

donghyuck has a slew of curses building up, all inching their way to the tip of his tongue, but he can feel joohyun’s all-knowing presence looming from the office. “yeah, it’s _soooo_ tiring,” he grits out. “for here or to go?”

“to go, obviously. if i stay here any longer i’ll contract food poisoning or something.” he fixes donghyuck with a serious, sympathetic look as he swipes his black card, which donghyuck tries not to look at with envy. “i don’t know how you manage. you’re _so_ brave.”

“that’s... not how food poisoning works,” donghyuck mumbles, but jaemin is already merrily skipping off to the soda machine with the large cup donghyuck hands him.

“you know, _marky_ never told me you worked here,” he says conversationally, talking over the sound of coke pouring into the cup. “i thought he’d be proud of his precious baby brother for landing such a… _glamorous_ gig.”

jaemin is younger than him by two months, but for some reason dating a senior (or five) has given him the idea that he’s somehow above the entire junior class. and right now, he’s dating donghyuck’s _brother_ , and has been for only around two days, might he add, both of which are hardly reasons to gloat.

and donghyuck is using the term “dating” loosely. jaemin has given mark permission to “court” him, after a good three years of pathetic pining. no one in their family except for donghyuck is allowed to know. he mostly found out about this on accident anyways. sharing a room with his brother means it’s hard for them to even try and keep secrets from one another.

besides, this is something jaemin does often: picking up a different guy each week and kicking them to the curb in a twisted cycle. in fact, the longest fling jaemin’s ever had was with donghyuck himself.

(there’s a reason the sight of jaemin’s tight, tight gymnastics clothes, the outline of his body clad in his cheerleading uniform, gets donghyuck’s blood pumping. he knows what’s beneath them, and knows he’s one of the only people that’s been allowed to see that, see _him_ , unguarded and raw and honest, vulnerable and exposed under donghyuck’s touch—)

but it’s not like it had meant anything.

still, jaemin is infuriatingly attractive, and cocky as ever. donghyuck has been trying his absolute hardest to avoid him after the whirlwind he wrapped himself up in this past summer—a _whole fucking summer_ , the longest damn length of time jaemin’s kept a boy around. and he did what donghyuck figured he would: started toying with another boy’s heart the second school began, continued the cycle he’d put on hold just for donghyuck, moved on like the entire damn summer didn’t matter.

maybe, sometimes, donghyuck wishes it had meant something.

anyways.

“i don’t see where he’d have time to tell you within two days,” donghyuck replies lightly, like he doesn’t care that jaemin’s stringing along his own brother. unless he’s imagining things, the ghost of a frown crosses jaemin’s face. tries not to think that maybe, just maybe, jaemin is dating mark to try and get a reaction out of him.

oh it’s getting a reaction out of donghyuck alright; just not the one he thinks jaemin wants. he sighs airily, shrugging his shoulders in a nonchalant manner. “i suppose that’s true,” jaemin says. “we have a lot to get to… _discover_ about each other.”

he drags out his words, eyes hooded and grin devilish. a pool of heat settles in donghyuck’s stomach. he refuses to let it show, keeping his impassive expression while his brain unhelpfully flashes image after image of jaemin hovering over him, spit-slick lips and mark-littered neck—

donghyuck swallows hard.

“order up!” yerim shouts. when donghyuck turns to bag the order she waggles her eyebrows; yerimspeak for _you, me, crew room—asap._ and donghyuck knows that nothing, not his protests or even joohyun’s scolding, will stop yerim from obtaining her gossip.

upon turning back around, bag in hand, donghyuck takes an opportunity to admire jaemin, who’s looking down at his phone. his honey-blonde highlighted hair is usually coiffed or combed to perfection, but right now it’s windswept and hanging low in his wide, expressive eyes. as good as jaemin is at schooling his expressions into impassivity or irksome cockiness, his eyes always give himself away. his pearly white teeth, wide and blindingly beautiful when he grins, wide with abandon (like when he laughed at donghyuck’s shitty jokes), bite down on his chapped lips. donghyuck remembers pestering him to apply chapstick, remembers jaemin murmuring _“we can share”_ before sweeping down to press their mouths together—

“all set,” donghyuck hears himself say, and jaemin looks up, almost caught off guard.

“thank you, duckie darling,” he says. a brief moment of genuine, albeit cheeky, kindness before slipping away into aloof asshole mode. “see you around; perhaps at the next family dinner?”

jaemin isn’t the only one who knows how to put on an unreadable bitchface. “you’ll probably be through your next two bodies before then,” he says, biting, and it hits right where it’s meant to; jaemin’s eyes flash with hurt, but he merely plasters on a demure smile.

“well someone’s getting an absolutely _glowing_ online review,” he hums, and pulls out the car keys to his swanky bmw, as if donghyuck is even phased by his wealth anymore. “see you when i see you then, hon.”

“which will be never,” donghyuck mumbles to himself as the door closes on jaemin’s (admittedly eye-catching) backside.

yerim pops out of hiding as soon as the door closes, fanning herself. “phew! i know the heat i was feeling from you two was not just the fryers back there.” in actuality, she does look overheated, her brown bob that’s haphazardly pinned away from her face falling out in sweaty strands, and flushed cheeks.

“shut up.” donghyuck hands her a water bottle from the cooler underneath the counter, and she accepts it graciously.

“i will not, not after that hottie waltzed in here like he owned the place and turned you into an uncomposed mess,” yerim leers. “if there’s someone so powerful they can do _that_ to _you,_ they deserve an award.”

“i’ll have you know i was perfectly composed,” donghyuck huffs. they naturally gravitate to the crew room, and he hears joohyun sigh in the distance. “and the only thing na jaemin deserves is a kick in the ass.”

“i’m sure that’s not all,” yerim winks. donghyuck slaps her shoulder and she nearly spits out her water. “just saying!” she sputters. “give me the deets and i’ll stop bugging you about it.”

they both know that giving yerim the ’deets’ will have the exact adverse effect, but donghyuck also knows the limitless bounds of her persistence. he gives in. “we’ve known each other since we were, like, toddlers. we took the same gymnastics class.”

it was pretty much hate at first sight. jaemin was snooty and a suck-up to the instructor, which kept his conniving behavior clouded by her rose-colored perception of him. donghyuck, meanwhile, was his usual unruly self, and got the blame put on him by jaemin for every little thing under the sun. as the two best students in the class, they were often pitted against each other—mostly by jaemin’s equally snooty mother.

donghyuck’s own mom, ever the mediator, made it a point to invite jaemin to donghyuck’s birthday parties, as it was only fair given that the rest of the pre-k gymnastics class were coming as well. the only part of that donghyuck ever appreciated was the admittedly pretty awesome and expensive gifts jaemin would begrudgingly give him. it was most likely another opulent display of wealth, handpicked by mrs. na, but donghyuck still got the hottest nerf guns and video games for a few years because of that.

eventually, they both joined the elementary cheer team, and the rivalry only deepened. donghyuck can’t count on one hand how many times they both had to sit out of cheering at games because they got too riled up trying to best one another and ended up in scathing spats. the thing donghyuck used to love—tumbling, gymnastics, even cheering—became the thing he dreaded. it got to the point where even his mother had to concede that donghyuck and jaemin would, quite simply, always fucking despise each other.

no one was more disappointed than her when donghyuck made the final decision not to continue cheerleading into middle school. he knew by then it would get more and more competitive as the years went on, and that outweighed his personal enjoyment of the activity. now, thinking of how his mother always supported him in what he loved, even if his father didn’t—well, he tries not to think about it, actually.

“so you just—quit?” yerim asks with wide eyes. “you don’t seem like the type to give up like that.”

“trust me, it pissed me off to no end to admit defeat,” donghyuck agrees. “but like hell was he going to do it first, and he had his parent’s money and the fact that his dad is the president of the school board on his side, so. i would have more than likely been kicked out of the team anyways if i kept it up.”

yerim shakes her head. “that’s bullshit,” she says, and donghyuck shares the sentiment. sometimes he regrets the decision, but it was for the best, even if he lost all of his friends and had to start middle school at the bottom of the social ladder. and one could argue that he’s still pretty close to the bottom, even with the soccer team captain as his best friend (by some divine miracle).

donghyuck doesn’t like wasting his time pondering on _what-ifs_. maybe, in a parallel universe, jaemin conceded to him, or maybe one where they were even friends, which is much less likely. maybe donghyuck would have been considered pretty, and popular, and have the sort of untouchable aura jaemin carries with him wherever he goes. but donghyuck tells himself he prefers to sink into the background, his intimidating exterior a natural repellent to anyone who would even consider getting closer to him.

he tells himself these things, but he doesn’t quite believe them.

then this summer happened, but donghyuck isn’t going to tell yerim about _that_. it was enough of a mouthful to get out to jeno last month anyway, and he’s spent every waking hour since then pushing it to the farthest recesses of his mind, where it belongs. he’s gotten avoiding na jaemin down to a science since this semester began, and now his careful planning has gone to shit. no matter how much he distances himself, jaemin’s presence has the same effect it did three months ago, when he approached donghyuck at that damn end-of-the-school-year party with something like trouble brewing in his eyes.

“that’s about it,” is what he says instead. “we left each other alone, but that clearly didn’t stop our rivalry.”

if only that were true; that way, it would be a little less painful.

  


🌩

  


“we’re having sicheng over for dinner tonight,” taeyong tells him the second donghyuck steps through the door, changed back into this morning’s outfit with his work uniform shoved in the bottom of his backpack. he’s in the middle of dusting the mantelpiece. “please put on something nice.”

“this isn’t nice?” donghyuck asks with a grin, but taeyong just stares at him in that disapproving way of his. it makes his skin crawl with guilt even if he’s done nothing wrong, and how he’s holding that feather duster suggests he definitely knows how to use it, so donghyuck climbs the stairs to change.

when donghyuck enters their room, mark is laying atop his neatly-made bed, smiling at his phone. he’s probably texting jaemin, which makes donghyuck gag inside. if only his oblivious brother would realize how much of an utter snake na jaemin is. but if three years of warning him against pining after jaemin haven’t worked, mark’s sorry ass is past the point of no return.

a part of donghyuck does feel bad, though, as he watches mark type out a response, suppressing a full-fledged grin now that donghyuck is in the room (he’s looking for a pair of jeans that _aren’t_ ripped to shreds, with little success). mark is quiet and keeps to himself, but behind that is someone that is goofy, and sweet, and, yes, a little clueless, but someone like mark doesn’t deserve to be hurt by someone like jaemin (donghyuck himself is another story). but mark is happy for now, and donghyuck figures there are some things his older brother has to learn on his own.

“what are you looking for?” mark asks after a while, when donghyuck’s search has proved fruitless.

“acceptable pants,” donghyuck sighs, and mark joins him in front of their shared closet. the contrast in their halves is comical; donghyuck’s is all black, lots of leather and denim and rips and patches he likes to collect, and mark’s is a lot of whites and grays, sweaters and button-ups all perfectly ironed out. donghyuck’s shoe rack is filled to the brim with converse, vans, chelsea boots, and his prized pair of chunky stomper boots that he busts out on special occasions. mark’s has only two pairs of sperry’s and one pair of beat-up nikes.

it’s clear which one of them is most often mistaken to be straight here.

“just borrow a pair of mine,” mark shrugs, once they’ve determined once again that nothing on donghyuck’s half is acceptable for taeyong’s dinner guest dress code. “you’ll probably have to pick a sweater, too.”

“ugh, it’s so hard to have a grungy aesthetic,” donghyuck bemoans as he heads to the bathroom to shower and change, mark’s bland choices in his arms. the thunk of his brother’s thumbs against his phone screen is the only response he gets. donghyuck sighs. at least he was able to shake mark from his lovesick stupor for five minutes.

as donghyuck is washing off the lingering scent of burger meat, he wonders exactly why sicheng is coming over tonight. taeyong likes to have his old high school friends over every once in a while, but never just one out of the bunch. not that donghyuck minds; he likes sicheng a lot. as a former gymnastics team and cheer squad member, he and donghyuck often ran in the same social circles as tweens, despite sicheng being a few years older. just last year, sicheng took over as coach of the school cheer team. yet another reason donghyuck regrets quitting.

every week or so, sicheng invites him to a personal training sessions at the old gymnastics center, and donghyuck enjoys it more than he thought he would initially. he’s basically at the same level he would be if he never gave it up, thanks to sicheng, and despite the coach’s countless offers, he’s always refused to join the squad again.

this is yet another nugget of information he’s kept from taeyong. he has enough on his plate as it is, what with his job at the office, taking care of the house, getting his two brothers through high school, and keeping them (mostly donghyuck) in line. the last thing taeyong needs to worry about is the expenses that come along with cheer camp, uniforms, and whatever else. and donghyuck knows that if taeyong even had an inkling that he’s taken a reinvigorated interest in what used to be his lifeblood, he would make him join the cheer squad in a heartbeat, without taking no for an answer.

taeyong’s had to shoulder a lot since their mother passed. he was about to graduate high school when the accident happened, and all of his perfectly laid out plans were forgone to take care of donghyuck and mark, who were still in middle school then. and donghyuck tries to make it easier for him, he really does, but sometimes the only thing that keeps the eternal hurt at bay is to lash out, unleash his anger on unsuspecting schoolmates and get nothing but a slap on the wrist because taeyong’s never had the heart to truly do anything to punish him.

it took a lot for the two of them to convince taeyong that it was okay to let loose every once in a while, have friends over, try dating. he eventually gave in, and it gives donghyuck more happiness than he’d like to admit when he sees taeyong talking to someone on the phone, or asking one of them for help setting up a tinder account.

so for whatever reason sicheng is coming, donghyuck is glad. taeyong has been particularly stressed lately, working graveyard shifts at the coffee shops this week as a favor to another co-worker (unfortunately, not a lot of better-paying jobs in the area are willing to hire someone without a college degree). the bags under his eyes have been more prevalent than usual, and a sort of vacant, lost look crosses his face too often for donghyuck to ignore it. hopefully having a friend over will ease some of… _whatever_ taeyong has been feeling.

on the menu tonight is fettuccine alfredo, a taeyong lee specialty. donghyuck says hi to sicheng and the two demons that accompany him, before taking a seat and shoveling as much pasta as he possibly can into his mouth at one time. the only thing he ate today was that protein bar yukhei gave him, he remembers belatedly as the pain in his stomach finally begins to cease.

as they eat, donghyuck glances at mark, who has strings of fettuccine hanging from his mouth as he tries to chew the gigantic mouthfuls his dumbass always takes. usually, his eyes would be wide with interest as he listens in on whatever taeyong and sicheng are quietly discussing at their end of the table, but tonight, he has his phone resting on his leg, looking down at it every five seconds and typing with one hand as he tries his best to not attract taeyong’s eagle-eyed attention. donghyuck is almost surprised at how often jaemin is texting mark. maybe he’s just buttering him up to make the eventual rejection at the end of next week hurt even more. now _that_ , he wouldn’t be surprised about in the slightest.

to mark’s left is chenle, and across from him, renjun. they’re both younger cousins of sicheng that are always involved in everyone’s business, somehow. they probably heard sicheng was invited to their place and took it upon themselves to show up as well. chenle is being boisterous as usual, hardly taking bites of his noodles and inadvertently directing attention from mark and his under-the-table-texting. renjun is indulging his cousin, while occasionally sending glances mark’s way. donghyuck makes a mental note of this (they aren’t the only ones who are nosy).

and at the head of the table, directly opposite taeyong, sits donghyuck. he sort of aggressively claimed the seat years ago, and at the time no one wanted to try and reason with a temperamental 13-year-old. he’s scowling at his pasta like it’s personally offended him, swirling his fork through the limp noodles and prodding at them.

before this school year began, he and taeyong made a bet of sorts: if donghyuck is able to make it through the first semester without getting at maximum three detentions, taeyong will get him an electric guitar for christmas. if not, donghyuck is stuck doing all of taeyong’s household chores for the rest of the school year.

but it’s not just for a ridiculous bet that donghyuck’s trying his best at this self-improvement thing. he genuinely _wants_ to be a better person, to make things easier for taeyong, and easier on himself, honestly. if he could just keep his big mouth shut and stop letting his hot-headedness overcome all rationality, making it to the end of the semester detention-free would be a breeze.

but thanks to yukhei, he’s already one strike down—and if jaemin keeps it up, it’ll be two when donghyuck inevitably beats his ass.

“donghyuck?”

usually, donghyuck has always had some sort of sixth sense when it comes to knowing when people are paying a little too much attention to him; however, in situations like this, when he’s lost in thought, it often fails him. he glances up and catches taeyong’s concerned gaze.

“did you hear anything i just said?” he asks.

“you were speaking?” donghyuck asks through an inappropriately timed mouthful of fettuccine.

taeyong sighs. “you never participate in any activities, hyuck,” he begins (for the second time). “and… i think having an extracurricular would be a good way to keep you out of trouble. and, well, sicheng told me where you guys go when you hang out—” to his credit, sicheng at least has the decency to flash an apologetic smile—“and i know you’d never do this on your own, so—”

“oh,” donghyuck breathes. “oh _no._ ”

“oh _yes_ ,” all 5 people seated around him at the table say, in eerily perfect unison, and donghyuck knows his fate is sealed.

  


🌩

  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “donghyuck lee, newest cheer squad recruit.” jeno wrinkles his nose in thought. “i could get used to it. if, you know, you had any cheer.”
> 
> “fuck off.”

“donghyuck lee, newest cheer squad recruit.” jeno wrinkles his nose in thought. “i could get used to it. if, you know, you had any cheer.”

“fuck off,” donghyuck groans, only proving jeno’s point. he thunks his head against the leather upholstery of jeno’s new camaro, which makes him let out a sort of strangled noise. “i literally have no choice. taeyong guilt-tripped me in the form of puppy eyes and saying it’s what mom would want, how was i supposed to refuse that?”

jeno fixes him with an unimpressed look at an inopportune red light. it makes donghyuck shrink down in his seat. “you know taeyong is equally weak for _your_ puppy eyes, hyuck. if you really didn’t want to do this, you would have put your foot down.”

jeno has this way of digging into all of donghyuck’s expressions and dismissive words. it leaves him bare and exposed, like airing out fresh wounds. sometimes, it’s like he knows donghyuck better than donghyuck knows himself—because jeno still knows the donghyuck that’s encapsulated within the walls donghyuck’s younger self built years ago, and has been doing everything he can to break them down.

donghyuck doesn’t want to admit that lately, the foundation of those walls has finally started to crack.

the light turns green, finally, and jeno steps on the gas. they turn into a neighborhood, one of the ones greeting you with a fancy sign and a manicured display of flowering bushes. each identical suburban house blends into one another as jeno follows the streets with ease.

“of course i _want_ to be on the squad,” donghyuck says after some thought. “it’s all i fucking wanted when i was a kid. but, i just can’t—”

“deal with jaemin?” jeno finishes. donghyuck bites his lip to keep from making a face.

“yes,” he admits. “we both know he’s going to be—”

“pissed beyond belief?” jeno is taking the piss out of him now, and donghyuck flips him off for it. “hyuck,” he says gently, genuine this time. “i know you’re scared, but you’ve got sicheng on your side, okay? you know he’d put a stop to anything jaemin would try and pull.”

“m’not _scared_ ,” donghyuck mutters, though his nail beds are burning from his biting at them yesterday while sicheng was fitting him for his cheer uniform and taeyong was going on and on and _on_ about _how talented hyuck was at gymnastics, i don’t know why he ever gave it up_. he painted them black afterwards so he would stop gnawing at them, a little sloppier with the brush than usual because his hands were shaking. that only made things worse when he cleaned up the edges with acetone, and it burned the raw, vulnerable skin of his fingertips. they still sting if he presses the pads of his fingers too hard against something, so he keeps his hands in loose fists in his lap.

jeno’s car comes to a stop in front of a driveway, all perfectly-laid concrete with a new basketball hoop settled within it. it’s a far cry from the cracked, pothole-ridden asphalt and the rusted pole with the net hanging pathetically from the hoop that mars donghyuck’s front drive. every time they drive through here to pick up jisung, donghyuck can’t help but compare his own aged and unkempt house to the pristine ones that line the streets here for miles.

jisung is shuffling down the drive, backpack slung over his shoulder. his eyes look puffy, but then again, they always do, and he’ll probably start complaining about it the second he gets in. donghyuck can tolerate the kid, as he’s the freshman jeno basically adopted from the soccer team, but he talks a bit too much, and doesn’t seem to be put off by donghyuck’s constant death glares. freshmen are supposed to be _intimidated_ by him, goddamnit.

“i got eight hours of sleep last night, you’d think i got three,” jisung mumbles as he gets in, voice a little garbled. he tosses his backpack into the backseat beside him. donghyuck rolls his eyes; he spent the night sprucing up his animal crossing village before deciding it was time to redye his hair, and if it weren’t for the full-coverage foundation and concealer he put on this morning, jisung would shut up about his own puffiness at the sight of the bags under donghyuck’s eyes. but he’ll let the kid rant without jutting in, like he always does. just because he can’t be bothered to interject. he doesn’t have a soft spot for him or anything.

jisung is too observant for his own good; he looks between jeno, whose unusually stoic expression is fixed upon donghyuck, whose gaze is fixedly on his lap, and quirks a brow. “what did donghyuck do this time?”

donghyuck squawks indignantly, about to crawl into the backseat to give the twerp a piece of his mind. jeno rests a placating hand against his seatbelt and looks back at jisung. “it’s more what he _didn’t_ do that’s giving him trouble,” he says calmly.

as the car starts moving, jeno gives donghyuck another look. this one silently asks donghyuck to be more open and honest, to tell someone besides jeno how he feels. he turns around, so jisung can read his lips. “my brother is making me join the cheer squad,” he begins, monotone. “i didn’t want to, but i also didn’t say no, so.”

“so you’re just being dramatic about something you could have controlled,” jisung summarizes, and grins crookedly, blocking his face from the half-hearted smack donghyuck tries to give him.

“turn down your hearing aid so i can talk shit about you,” donghyuck tells him.

“you still do that even if i don’t turn my hearing aid off,” jisung points out.

he isn’t wrong. donghyuck shuts up.

the rest of the ride to school is spent in relative silence, from donghyuck at least. jisung and jeno make conversation about soccer, with whatever jisung’s playing on the aux in the background. as the school building comes into view, donghyuck shrinks further into his seat with a groan.

“you big baby,” jeno sighs as he parks in the junior lot, but it’s full of affection.

getting out of the car is difficult, with the leather sticking to jeno’s seat, but donghyuck manages. his exit has the intended effect: heads turn at the sight of his all-black, all-leather ensemble. he’s wearing his spiky stompers today, and there’s a thick choker clinging tightly to his neck. his freshly dyed hair is dark purple, and there’s smokey eye makeup to match.

the three of them walk to the entrance together. donghyuck sticks out like a fashionable sore thumb, and he now stands a good inch or two taller than jeno and jisung thanks to the stacked boots. the eyes on him makes his skin crawl, but he keeps his head held high and his gaze fixed straight ahead.

it’s unfortunate, having a fashion taste that attracts attention even though that’s the last thing donghyuck wants. but he’ll be damned if he goes with the grain just to slip by unnoticed, so he pops the fucking collar of his leather jacket and walks with a little more force than necessary, just to hear the satisfying _clunk_ his boots make against the sidewalk.

“you guys can go, i need some caffeine,” donghyuck tells the two of them as they pass through the front entrance. there’s not much he’ll be able to accomplish today if he doesn’t get some coffee in his system, least of all cheer practice.

jisung does a series of quick motions, which donghyuck has since come to understand as sign language for _have a nice day!_ donghyuck signs it in return, like he has been for the past week. he looked up a video online and practiced signing the phrase until he got it down. it’s a small gesture, and incomparable to the fact that jeno added asl to his schedule at the beginning of the year to talk more to jisung, but his shocked look that blossomed into a bright beam the first time donghyuck signed it back to him made it worth it (and donghyuck wonders why jisung isn’t scared of him. he’s bad at this ‘bad boy’ thing). today is no different: jisung smiles as he turns away, and for all his brattiness, donghyuck hopes he’s been able to help jisung feel as comfortable and welcomed as taeyong has always made him feel. as the youngest in his family, donghyuck’s never had the chance to play the role of an older brother, and when he’s around jisung, that unseen side of himself sometimes comes out.

“hyuck.” jeno, who lingered in the entrance, places a hand on his shoulder. “seriously, you’ve got this. i know you’ll kick ass, like you always do. don’t let that asshole ruin this for you again.” donghyuck opens his mouth to protest, but jeno continues. “if something goes wrong, text or call me. i’ll get coach nakamoto to end practice early if i have to.”

with a comforting squeeze to donghyuck’s arm, he follows after jisung, leaving donghyuck standing in the middle of a throng of students entering the building. several younger girls bump into him, and squeak and run away instead of apologizing. he makes his way to the little student-run cafe, a cute idea started by yeeun jang, the founder of the mental health and disabilities support group. as per donghyuck’s angsty and emotionless image, he’s neglected to go to any meetings, but jeno has a few times (though donghyuck thinks that’s more because of yeeun herself than anything else). she smiles brightly at him, and donghyuck flashes a tiny one back as he rattles off his order.

it’s run like a little business, with nametags and a tip jar and everything, and donghyuck always makes sure to leave a generous one when he can. he’s come to know the names of the students that work here, and was one of their first regulars (because donghyuck can never resist the scent of fresh coffee once his nose has latched onto it). of course the school only allows them to sell small lattes and the like, meaning donghyuck can’t get anything shot to hell with espresso, but it keeps him awake in class throughout the day, so he’ll take it.

eric is manning the coffee machine today, which he’s operating from his mechanical wheelchair. apparently, it can move up and down, which donghyuck never noticed. “extra whip, robocop,” he calls out. eric flips him off, but he’s laughing (they had history together freshman year, and at some point in their whispered conversations, eric told him robocop, almost ironically now since he’s finally getting prosthetic legs soon, was his favorite movie. donghyuck’s made fun of him for it since then).

“here you—fuck—go,” ryujin says as she places donghyuck’s drink, with far too much whipped cream on top, in front of him. her arms are flailing a little bit, and her neck jolts back every few seconds, but she’s recently got rid of the tic that involves immediately dropping and/or throwing whatever she’s holding, and donghyuck always prefers his coffee to be in a cup and not on the floor. he thanks her, a genuine smile gracing his mouth as he makes a small quip about her improvement. she slugs his arm and tells him to get the hell out (she’s been an acquaintance of donghyuck’s since they met regularly in detention last year. this dynamic is a familiar one for the two of them).

these are people donghyuck _gets_. they’re just as overlooked and even looked down upon by so many people at school, just because of shit they can’t control. quite a few of the times donghyuck has landed himself in detention was because he defended them from assholes. he thinks about going to one of the meetings from time to time, because half the people in the group could be his friends if he put in the effort, and lord knows donghyuck needs a space to vent. but he settles for quick banter in the mornings at the hotspot, and tells himself that this is how it’s supposed to be.

donghyuck is sipping idly at his latte, remnants of a smile on his face before he lets the bitchiness consume him, when an all-too-familiar head of honey-blonde hair appears out of nowhere.

“didn’t think we’d see each other again so soon, duckie darling,” jaemin says, smiling widely. he steps into donghyuck’s personal space a little, giving him an obvious appreciative onceover. he smells both sweet and musky at the same time, and it gets donghyuck’s head spinning. “well, _you_ didn’t. i thought i might find you here.”

“didn’t you drop mark off?” donghyuck asks, trying to keep the conversation at a level of sensuality he can tolerate. jaemin radiates an aura of flirtatiousness wherever he goes, and it’s hard to act like it doesn’t faze him. “where is he?”

“don’t look so worried, hon,” jaemin simpers. “i escorted marky to class. he likes to get there early, i’m sure you know that. sip?”

belatedly, donghyuck realizes what jaemin is asking. his arm moves on autopilot, extending his cup to jaemin, who takes a sip and makes a face. donghyuck’s sure everyone in the vicinity is staring openmouthed at them. jaemin is probably basking in the attention. “little too sweet for me,” he comments. there’s a sparkle in his eyes that donghyuck doesn’t trust. “i like black iced americanos, remember?”

god, does donghyuck remember. he can practically conjure the taste of jaemin’s order to the tip of his tongue, can visualize jaemin setting his empty starbucks cup in its holder to crawl across the console to the passenger’s seat, straddling donghyuck’s thighs—

the warning bell goes off, and both of them startle. “walk with me,” jaemin says, and donghyuck is all-too willing to follow his orders.

“my class is the other way,” he says, more to himself than jaemin. it makes his cheeks feel hot underneath his makeup.

“since when have you ever cared about being on time?” jaemin asks. his tongue darts out to lick the edge of his lip, and donghyuck’s eyes are dragged to the movement. he has a point. “i walked your brother to class, so i need a knight in shin—well, leather—armor to do the same for me.”

“and that’s your only reason for tracking me down,” donghyuck says, straightfaced.

“you can’t just enjoy my company, can you?” jaemin sighs airily. “fine. i have news.”

for a moment, donghyuck stiffens. he has no idea if jaemin knows about his new spot on the cheer squad (he had been a bit… preoccupied to worry about it when jaemin approached him). sicheng said he wouldn’t tell anyone until practice, but donghyuck is half-convinced that jaemin has psychic powers. why else would he come looking for him?

(donghyuck tries very hard not to think of any other reasons.)

he bumps into a jock-looking asshole, who glares at him until he catches sight of jaemin. his eyes soften, and jaemin flashes him a wink. donghyuck bites down on his cheek. jaemin takes the opportunity to snake his arm through donghyuck’s to pull him along. “watch where you’re going, hon,” he quips. “anyways, news! you can expect to see yours truly at the dinner table tonight.”

thanks to the caffeine making its way through his bloodstream, donghyuck is able to process this a bit faster than normal. “ _what_?” he sputters on his coffee.

jaemin huffs. “wow, try to contain your joy,” he deadpans. “just thought i’d let you know. hope you keep your side of the room clean and free of incriminating blackmail material, duckie.”

he says it in a lilting tone, but still, donghyuck is wary. he does a mental sweep of his room the way he left it this morning. about as normal and probably even less incriminating than the average teenager’s room. “have fun going through my stuff like a creep, then,” he says. “your class, i presume?”

jaemin has come to a stop outside of the psychology classroom. “see you tonight, hon,” he grins, a little maliciously. donghyuck gives him a two-fingered salute. as soon as he disappears behind the classroom door, the bell signaling the beginning of first period rings.

“fuck,” donghyuck curses. it’s a good five minutes to his econ class if he books it, and so book it he does, furiously typing on his phone with one hand, coffee in the other, as he tries to make it to class without getting caught by a roaming administrator. there are a few stragglers just coming in, in similar states of panic, but donghyuck pays them no mind as he hurries along.

  


**[d for dumbass]**  
_jaemin?? dinner?? wut happened 2 not wanting ty 2 kno??_  
**delivered 7:36** **am**

**[m for moronic]**  
_how did you find out??  
ugh you’re running late to class, aren’t you?  
we haven’t made anything official, what’s the problem with getting him into taeyong’s good graces?  
and i’ll have you know that he asked me if he could come over, so that says something._  
**seen 7:43** **am**

  


donghyuck gapes at his phone. jaemin _invited himself?_ what stunt is he trying to pull? giving mark false hope that he has a chance? trying to get on donghyuck’s nerves and letting mark get caught in the crossfire? whatever it is, it makes donghyuck’s blood boil.

the morning announcements are ending by the time donghyuck reaches his classroom. of course the door is shut and locked, so he has to bring even more attention to himself by rapping sharply against it with his ring-adorned knuckles.

“late for the second time this month, mr. lee,” miss keith says the second she opens the door to let him in. “mr. kim will see you in detention this afternoon.”

two strikes down.

donghyuck trudges to his desk, feeling the piercing stares of his peers against his back. he dumps his backpack underneath his seat and rummages within it for his notebook and a pencil. it looks like there’s going to be a fuckton of slides to copy down today. donghyuck loves getting hand cramps first thing in the morning.

the teacher begins her lesson, and donghyuck lets himself get caught up in the drone of her voice, scribbling down the slides at lightning speed. he’s gotten good at getting legible notes from her quick, snappy lectures, so he finishes a few beats earlier than everyone else. his phone buzzes in his jacket pocket and he slips it out to read mark’s text:

  


**[m for moronic]**  
_also, i might have told jaemin about the cheer squad thing? but i think he took it well! you were worried for nothing._  
**seen 7:48** **am**

  


as miss keith hands donghyuck his detention slip at the end of the period, he grits his teeth and refrains from sending mark a reply along the lines of _took it well, my fucking ass_.

he should have known that the only reason that jaemin, the conniving bastard, would want to seek him out is to wreak havoc.

  


🌩

  


by the time donghyuck makes it to 3rd period ap physics, he’s carefully packed away his pure rage into a box the size of principal moon’s ass and has drank his coffee down to the dregs. he looks more put-together than he feels, he notes as he sneaks a glance at his reflection in a trophy case. then again, that’s true nearly every day.

yukhei is sitting at their table already. his dark hair is hanging boyishly in his eyes today; it’s a change from his usual coiffed style, but not an unwelcome one. the girls that sit behind them are practically hanging off his every word as he talks to them, and yukhei remains utterly oblivious, prattling on about fuck-all. his hands move animatedly when he speaks, and donghyuck doesn’t even have to see his face to hear the smile in his voice.

“—and then i asked coach, _why don’t we do ‘getcha head in the game’ from high school musical for the pep rally?_ and he was like, _fuck_ no—”

yukhei’s voice dies out as he makes eye contact with donghyuck. he gives him a onceover, like jaemin did, but it isn’t laced with pure attraction. sure, there’s some of that there (which donghyuck doesn’t know how to feel about), but yukhei looks more— _entranced_ , would be the best way to describe it.

“hey,” donghyuck says, because he really has no idea what else to say. normally, his greeting would be punctuated by an insult, but since they made up(?) on saturday, their relationship is out of whack. they’re not friends, not by any stretch of the imagination, but donghyuck now feels obligated to be civil with him, and he hardly gets to this stage with people, so. this is a new path he’s not sure he wants to navigate.

yukhei stares another few moments before he realizes he should probably say something. “hi!” he blurts, a little too loud and enthusiastic. it garners attention, and donghyuck has no doubt that everyone is going to be twittering about the two of them actually treating each other like human beings and not punching bags.

“get your lab notebooks out guys, we’re turning them in today!” mrs. kwon announces. “except dejun and kunhang. you two are still coming by after school to redo your lab, right?”

the two boys nod, and donghyuck gives them a sympathetic look. him and yukhei both apologized profusely, without mrs. kwon having to tell them to do so, and they both accepted it. normally, donghyuck would be mad that they get to redo their lab in class while he and yukhei were told to do it on their own, but it’s the least they deserve for being dicks.

mrs. kwon goes around collecting notebooks. she stops at donghyuck and yukhei, who are both holding out theirs for her to take. “surprised you two kept your hands away from each other’s throats for two seconds to get this done,” she says. a few snickers ring out. donghyuck just extends his arm further, and she takes the hint, walking away from them with the semblance of a self-satisfied smirk on her face.

donghyuck glowers after her. as far as teachers go, she’s one of the nicest donghyuck’s ever had. however, she has clearly made it her mission to make him and yukhei get along. and donghyuck hates doing what people want him to.

(but yukhei’s shaggy hair and crooked grin is swaying his judgment just a bit.)

once she’s gathered up the notebooks on a pile on her desk, mrs. kwon faces the class. “we’re starting a new unit today,” she begins. “you and your lab partner are going to teach different parts of the unit to the class in a presentation at the end of the week.”

groans resound throughout the room, donghyuck’s included. he prefers when someone who knows what they’re doing teaches the material. what’s the point of being a teacher if you don’t, you know, teach?

“enough of that,” mrs. kwon says goodnaturedly. “you have time to work on this in class, but we will have other work, so you may want to consider working on this outside of class as well.”

more groaning. it’s ap physics in a class full of tryhard seniors (save donghyuck, who is neither a senior nor a tryhard); they no doubt have other ap classes to deal with, not to mention whatever activities they’re taking to bolster college applications. finding time to meet up with someone outside of school must be daunting.

case in point: five minutes later, when mrs. kwon has passed out which parts of the unit the various lab groups will be presenting and yukhei is looking through his phone’s calendar. “let’s see, there’s a french club meeting tomorrow, so that’s a no; a mathletes meet on wednesday, no can do; i have a basketball game on thursday—running out of options here; and friday there’s a robotics meeting….” yukhei taps his chin. “i do have basketball practice today, but that only runs ‘til 4:30… are you free tonight?”

this is a question donghyuck never thought he’d be asked in his life; sadly, it’s not in the context he’d want. “i’m in detention 'til 3:30, he replies glumly. “and i’m _supposed_ to have cheer practice ‘til 4, if i’m not kicked out by then.”

“woah, since when were you on the cheer squad?” yukhei asks, perked up with interest. “i’m sure i would have noticed you at basketball games.”

donghyuck doesn’t want to think about the implications of yukhei taking notice of him in any context, but okay. “me and my older brother are friends with the coach, and my brother sort of… went behind my back and asked him to let me onto the squad?” he says, and wow, this situation is more ridiculous the more he thinks about it.

“woah, you must really be good then if you just got on without trying out,” yukhei says, and he actually looks impressed.

donghyuck tugs on his choker sheepishly (he can’t help but notice that yukhei’s eyes are drawn to the movement). “i guess you could say that,” he admits. “but that’s why i’m nervous about it. everyone will think it’s unfair—especially jaemin.”

yukhei pulls a face. “yeah, jaemin will definitely be… less than pleased.”

“oh, i forgot you guys are friends,” donghyuck says, cursing himself inwardly for being careless. not that it really matters if it gets back to jaemin that he was talking shit, but. yukhei seems like the kind of person to take insults about his friends to heart.

“ _were_ friends,” yukhei corrects. he ducks his head. “in middle school he… changed. a lot. i haven’t really spoken to him since then. unless our parents invite each other over for dinner or something.”

“i’m… sorry to hear that,” donghyuck tells him. in any other situation, he would congratulate yukhei for escaping from jaemin’s clutches, but yukhei looks so downcast that donghyuck doesn’t want to darken the brewing storm cloud swirling in his eyes.

they fall into a semi-awkward silence after that. donghyuck begins flipping through the textbook to find information for their presentation, while yukhei does the same online. his expression never quite evens out; he keeps frowning to himself, like donghyuck reminded him of something he’d almost forgotten and now he’s reliving it all over again.

having lived in the same community for the last 17 years, there isn’t a lot donghyuck doesn’t know about the majority of his peers. yukhei and jaemin’s seemingly unbreakable bond that lasted from pre-k to 6th grade was infamous. being neighbors, with wealthy parents that have a lot of influence over the city, they were a pair of silver spoon-sucking, snot-nosed brats from the jump.

given his rivalry with jaemin, donghyuck hated yukhei mostly by proxy; that is, until the older boy took notice of donghyuck after he helped yukhei up when he broke his leg at one of the flag football games (back when yukhei was playing every sport imaginable before settling on basketball), and for some reason afterwards made it his personal mission to annoy donghyuck to no end.

whenever the fifth and fourth graders had recess together, which was unfortunately quite often, yukhei would follow donghyuck around the playground. he really didn’t do much more than yank on the straps of donghyuck’s overalls (donghyuck was even fashionable as a fourth grader, okay), or call donghyuck strings of insults that really made no sense and weren’t at all offensive. but it got under donghyuck’s skin, because he’d had yet to build up a thickness, and he’d often come home to his mom in tears over yukhei and his stupid brace-face and the mean words he spewed even though donghyuck _never did anything wrong_.

donghyuck considers himself a master at putting on a front. if any of the blistering words that jaemin spat his way got to him, he did what he still does to this day: neatly packs away the hurt into a box, and tucks it away until he’s alone. sometimes not even then. if his brain were a bed, there would be hundreds of tiny boxes full of pain and sadness stuffed under it, dusty and forgotten.

but with yukhei’s newfound hobby of tormenting him, it was so unprecedented that donghyuck didn’t know what to do about it. yukhei probably doesn’t even _remember_ any of this, when it shattered a prepubescent donghyuck’s self-image and confidence almost beyond repair. this, combined with his and jaemin’s feud, his subsequent quitting of the cheer squad, and the passing of his mother not even a year and a half later, made for a particularly rocky start to his pre-teen years. no wonder donghyuck turned out like this.

but he doesn’t like to play the victim. sure, the cards he’s been dealt thus far in life are less than ideal, but he knows there are far worse hands out there. it’s why he’s never spoken about the heartache he’s carried for so long, to the point that feeling desolate and wrecked is nearly his constant state of being. invalidating his trauma, telling himself that his problems are trivial and not worth listening to, is how he’s gotten by. what’s the point in making a change now, so late in the game?

so instead of speaking on it, donghyuck glares at kids in the hallway, and wears leather pants in late september when it’s still 70 degrees out, and has a grand total of 3 friends, and ended up in saturday detentions nearly every weekend for the last two years. it’s easier that way, to settle into the routine of being the bad boy at school even though his lips have never touched any illegal substance and his skin is free of ink and he really isn’t _bad_ in any sense of the word. if only someone would take the time to look beneath it all.

the thing is, donghyuck doesn’t let anyone _have_ that time.

and it’s hard, to look at people like yukhei and think of their lives as anything less than perfect. but even if yukhei’s web of love and loss doesn’t match donghyuck’s, it doesn’t mean he has it easier, or doesn’t struggle, or doesn’t feel like he has to hide himself sometimes, just like donghyuck does. it’s even harder not to resent him for the way he treated donghyuck for several years. but donghyuck thinks of how genuinely appreciative yukhei was this weekend, the fact that he put aside his pride to apologize and try to make amends. maybe yukhei came to the same conclusions about donghyuck that he’s coming to about yukhei right now.

“hey,” he says quietly. yukhei startles, turning to look at him with an inquisitive expression. “if you want to pick me up after our practices today, i can meet you in the senior lot or something?”

for the first time since he shut down earlier, yukhei smiles. “sounds like a plan. would you mind if we went to your house, though? my parents are a little much, and they might….”

“...hate the way i look and act and kick me out?” donghyuck finishes. yukhei nods apologetically. “i get it; we can go to mine. but just so you know, jaemin is actually going to be at my house tonight too. he’s... ‘courting’ my brother for the time being, so.”

yukhei’s shoulders slump. just when donghyuck was making progress. “i guess,” he says, a little sadly.

“don’t worry, i can handle jaemin just fine,” donghyuck says, like he didn’t let his heart and his dick control him the moment jaemin approached him this morning. “he won’t bother you.”

“thanks,” yukhei says, but he doesn’t look assured. “can i get your number? just in case,” he adds quickly.

“i would never assume you had ulterior motives,” donghyuck tells him, teasing. he holds out his hand for yukhei’s phone. “i don’t get enough boys asking for my number for that.”

“news to me,” yukhei says, accidentally it seems, because his eyes widen and his face flushes as he realizes the implications of what he just said. “um.”

donghyuck’s hand plays with one of the gems on his choker nervously as he puts in his number. _☠🔞 donghyuck, bringer of chaos 🔞☠_ is what he saves his contact as, and yukhei snorts upon seeing it. he’d named himself a simple _xuxi 🍣_.

“xuxi?” donghyuck asks, testing out the nickname on his tongue. yukhei’s blush deepens.

“‘s my parent’s nickname for me,” he answers to the table.

“that’s really cute,” donghyuck tells him, and is surprised to realize he means it.

yukhei looks like he wants to bury his face in his hands and run away, but the bell saves him anyway. “so if you’re not kicked off the squad, i’ll see you at four?” yukhei asks him as they’re packing up their things. his cheeks are still pink.

“four,” donghyuck nods. “i’ll try and let you know if things change. i might get yelled at by the coach for an hour.”

“i’m sure you won’t,” yukhei says. his arm moves as if to pat donghyuck’s shoulder, but he must think better of it, because he turns on his heel and leaves the room without as much of a goodbye.

donghyuck looks at the door where yukhei disappeared. he laughs to himself as he puts in his airpods. and yukhei thinks _he’s_ the weird one.

he’s got a free period next, which gives him ample to sit alone and overthink that entire interaction. as he’s sitting down in the quad, his phone buzzes.

  


**[xuxi 🍣]**  
_forgot to say: i’m sure you’ll do great!! the coach put you on the squad for a reason, don’t stress about it :)  
good luck!_  
**seen 10:08** **am**

  


if donghyuck spends the rest of 4th period grinning like a fool while he does last night’s assignment for his next class, that isn’t anyone’s business.

(but he totally does.)

  


🌩

  


the second mr. kim’s alarm goes off, donghyuck is out of his seat in an instant.

“have somewhere to be, mr. lee?” the detention proctor asks, not even looking up from his laptop.

“yes sir,” donghyuck replies, not even bothering to be a smartass right now. he hurriedly stuffs his notebooks into his backpack and takes out his cheer practice clothes. “am i excused?”

the rest of the students in detention today are half-asleep and/or have nowhere better to be. normally, donghyuck would be one of them, but the anxiety is pumping through his veins right now, and if he doesn’t get changed and out onto the field to apologize to sicheng, he feels like he may explode.

as if to prove how strange this behavior of donghyuck’s is, mr. kim actually looks up, bewildered. “i mean—yeah?”

“cool, see you hopefully not soon!” donghyuck says hurriedly, and books it to the nearest restroom.

he removed his makeup surreptitiously enough in the back of the classroom just now, so he doesn’t have to worry about that. as badass as he felt in today’s outfit, he sure regrets wearing it today, as he struggles to wrestle the sweaty leather pieces off of his body. eventually, he manages to get on the _sm high cheer squad_ shirt sicheng gave him yesterday, as well as a pair of shorts that come just above the knee. it’s the most of his body donghyuck’s displayed since his last stint in cheer and gymnastics nearly half a decade ago now, and he feels incredibly exposed.

at least the sun doesn’t make him feel like his clothes are melting into his flesh when he makes it outside. the football team’s practice field is up a hill at the back of the school, and donghyuck surprises himself by running the entire way up there without stopping. it hasn’t even been ten minutes since detention ended that sicheng and the rest of the cheer squad come into his view over the horizon.

“donghyuck!” sicheng calls out, and he actually looks—happy? “glad to see you!”

donghyuck bows his head as he walks over, trying to avoid making eye contact with any of the whispering girls, or—god forbid—jaemin’s shit-eating grin. “i’m really sorry, coach, i had detention, this was totally my fault—”

“don’t apologize,” sicheng says, not unkindly. “mistakes happen. however, i would appreciate it if this wouldn’t happen again.”

the back of donghyuck’s neck burns, both from the sun and embarrassment. he knew sicheng wasn’t going to show him any favoritism, and he appreciates that, but god, does he feel so pathetic. “of course not, coach.”

he chances a look up, then, and sees that most of the girls have swarmed them, waiting with patient smiles. “stop embarrassing the poor baby, coach,” coos a senior girl that donghyuck vaguely knows is named chaeyoung. “it’s his first day!”

sicheng shakes his head at her. “i’m extending practice to 4:30, i’m going easy on him,” he says.

“you are?” donghyuck asks incredulously.

“only time i’ll let you off the hook, kiddo,” he tells donghyuck in that authoritative tone, but a grin is playing on his lips. “jaemin, can you take donghyuck to the storage shed for pom-poms?”

donghyuck’s head whips around to see where sicheng’s gaze has turned to. behind the fray of girls gawking at the new blood, stands jaemin, looking furious. “why of course, coach,” he says coquettishly, and turns to the shed without waiting for donghyuck.

“upset that your little game of _saboteur_ didn’t work out?” donghyuck can’t help but ask once he’s jogged over to catch up to jaemin (there’s already a stitch in his side from running up here; he’s really going to have to build up stamina).

jaemin doesn’t even pretend to play innocent. “you know what? i am,” he states, cold and blunt. the monotone of his voice makes donghyuck recoil a little.

“it’s not fair,” he continues. “i’ve been working my ass off since fucking _preschool_ to make it on this squad. i’m training to make it on the fucking men’s artistic gymnastics team for the goddamn _olympics_. and _you_ —you didn’t even try out! just because your brother is friends with the coach, doesn’t mean you should just get a free pass! it’s—it’s nepotism!”

“i’m surprised you know what that means,” is all donghyuck says, and he’s really being more honest than anything.

jaemin rolls his eyes. “and you don’t even fucking _care_ ,” he mumbles, quickening his pace until he reaches the shed at the far end of the field.

“hey,” donghyuck says, and he grabs jaemin by the arm. that startles him into freezing in place, big brown eyes widened in surprise. “i’m not trying to one-up you or ruin your opportunities, or whatever. my brother went _behind my back_ to get me on the squad; i didn’t ask him. that still doesn’t make it right, but i’m just here to enjoy myself and something that i like to do, not get in anyone’s way. got that?”

“yes, now let go of me,” jaemin snaps, wrenching his arm from donghyuck’s grip. his face is turning fuschia. he opens the shed door, letting sunlight shine into its dusty contents. “doesn’t mean you’re getting my forgiveness.”

“wasn’t asking for it,” donghyuck tells him, because he isn’t. he just wants to make it clear that jaemin isn’t being upstaged in this situation, or whatever. like _donghyuck_ is the one who needs to apologize to jaemin when jaemin purposely landed him in detention today, and not to mention how he led him on for two months only to ghost him at the beginning of august and flaunt his new beau all over instagram several days later, all because of a stupid argument—but that’s not the topic of discussion right now.

this jaemin is the one donghyuck remembers from his childhood: the one that gets jealous easily, who jumps to conclusions at the drop of a hat. the one that holds grudges for eternity. he’s rummaging through a bin, picking out loose pom-pom tinsel before coming across a pair of relatively intact ones, dark purple and gray to match their school colors. “here,” jaemin grunts, shoving them into donghyuck’s chest. “c’mon.”

the walk back to sicheng and the rest of the squad is tense and silent. donghyuck ruffles his pom-poms a little, trying to familiarize himself with shaking them relentlessly. back in elementary school, he was one of the more flamboyant squad members, and never hesitated to lead a cheer or try and rile up a particularly unenthusiastic crowd. being able to do simple gymnastics moves is nothing compared to the charm it takes to woo an audience. jeno was right: donghyuck _doesn’t_ have any cheer. not anymore.

they start off with stretches before moving further. sicheng taught donghyuck some of the basic cheers, a lot of clapping and shouting _go snakes, go!_ nothing too difficult. jaemin leads them all, occasionally turning around to face them to make sure they’re doing the right things. his eyes are mostly fixed on donghyuck, scrutinizing, and donghyuck knows sicheng is keeping an eye on him, too, so he ignores the fact that there’s a full-on cramp in his side and throws himself even harder into the routine along with the other girls. he tries his best to have a smile on his face at all times, like everyone else, but it starts to ache at the corners of his mouth and grows faker by the minute.

next, sicheng starts choreographing this week’s routine. _we do the same one for basketball and football games since they’re back-to-back, _he’d said to donghyuck yesterday; meaning that the routines are fairly quick, to make time for the marching band’s halftime show at football games, but involved enough to leave an impression on the crowd (and make donghyuck’s muscles ache preemptively just thinking about it). jaemin and the girls dive into it with ease, but donghyuck struggles some, just trying to match sicheng move for move. dancing and doing fancy high kicks is not donghyuck’s strong suit.__

____

it’s when sicheng tells them all to do a back handspring into a triple full layout that donghyuck gets the hang of things.

__

his feet sting a little as he hits the ground, but he lands it. belatedly, he realizes that he was the only one who attempted it as soon as sicheng called it out, while everyone else did a brief stretch or mental preparation. leave it to donghyuck to be impulsive and just go for it without any consideration of the consequences.

__

but everyone stares at him for a moment, unmoving, before one of the girls—dahyun, donghyuck believes—shouts out, “that was fucking _sick_!”

__

“language!” sicheng reprimands, but he too looks a little amazed. “donghyuck can you show everyone that a couple more times? maybe give some of the younger members some pointers?”

__

jaemin stalks over to the bench for his water while donghyuck sheepishly begins teaching a sweet freshman, yeojin, the proper formation to begin a front handspring. he really didn’t want to be put at the forefront of all this, and sicheng knew that. while not showing blatant favoritism, he probably wants to prove to donghyuck himself, as well as the rest of the squad that he is indeed capable and deserving of being on the squad like anyone else. that doesn’t mean donghyuck can’t shake the guilt he feels, even if jaemin is the only one outright offended by it all.

__

because donghyuck _does_ know that he’s capable enough— _more_ than capable enough for this, at least on the tumbling and gymnastics side of things. he never really stopped training after leaving cheer behind, what with sicheng taking him under his wing as his unofficial guinea pig. it’s probably one of the reasons why sicheng’s so good at his job: he had years of practice prior when he molded donghyuck into a star pupil. donghyuck could out-flip and out-tumble most of the girls on this squad thanks to his guidance, but that doesn’t mean he wants to show it all off right away.

__

he demonstrates it one last time for dahyun, who’s begging him to do it again, and he can’t lie about how exhilarating it feels. it’s been years since he’s practiced anywhere except for inside the dingy gymnastics building. the feeling of basking in the sunlight, fresh air whipping in his ears, and the _thud_ of mark’s nikes making contact with the dirt (the only ones he could obtain (read: steal) on such short notice) is just… unparalleled to anything donghyuck’s ever experienced.

__

it’s the loud sounds of a familiar voice hooting and hollering in the distance is what breaks him out of that brief, rare moment of euphoria.

__

“i _told_ you you’d be great!” yukhei whoops. he’s sitting on the shitty metal bleachers that are probably cemented to the ground with age, wearing sweaty basketball practice clothing. his eyes are fucking _sparkling_ , and the wide grin he’s sporting is no different. the girls titter behind their hands, looking between him and donghyuck, who is standing where he landed, chest heaving, a small smile forming despite himself.

__

then, donghyuck realizes why yukhei is _here_. “i forgot to tell you, xuxi—practice got extended because of me,” he says, as calmly as he can when his heart is beating out of his chest (part exhaustion and part—messy feelings that he doesn’t want to think about right now).

__

“no worries!” yukhei responds, flicking some damp strands of dark brown hair out of his equally dark brown eyes. “i’ll—”

__

__

“there’s fifteen minutes of practice left, _loverboy_!” jaemin interrupts. that term would normally be uttered in jaemin’s signature coy manner, but the way he says it to yukhei is—cruel. meant to sting. “you can chit chat with him then.”

__

it certainly has some sort of effect on yukhei: his expression turns stony, and nods curtly in jaemin’s direction. donghyuck tries to make eye contact with yukhei, to try and somehow indicate that jaemin is just in a shitty mood (no thanks to donghyuck), but now yukhei refuses to look in his direction.

__

sicheng moves on to the next set of steps in the routine, once he’s deemed that everyone’s tumbles are good enough for now. this is where jaemin’s expertise comes in; he walks around the sort of triangle that the squad has formed (at which jaemin is the point of, of course), adjusting legs and arms and posture. donghyuck knows he looks awkward in this position, having gotten it all wrong, and simply waits his turn.

__

“you know,” jaemin says, when he finally approaches donghyuck. he rests a hand on donghyuck’s waist and he’s suddenly tensed up ten times more than before. “ _xuxi_ used to have a _huuuuuge_ crush on you in middle school.”

__

his other hand moves down to donghyuck’s legs, nudging them apart a little. it reminds donghyuck of too many summer nights, and he swallows at the mere touch. “he never told anyone, because he didn’t want to ruin his reputation of course,” he continues lowly. donghyuck’s arms come next, jaemin’s fingers run along them almost delicately, and donghyuck can’t hide the gooseflesh that erupts underneath his touch. “but i could tell, the way he trailed after you like a lost puppy.”

__

donghyuck narrows his eyes. having hated yukhei’s guts for the past 11 years, it’s hard to consider the fact that yukhei could have actually _liked_ him. and he doesn’t exactly know what jaemin’s trying to do by telling him this.

__

“he looked mortified just now,” jaemin says, when it becomes clear that donghyuck isn’t going to speak. “no wonder; i would be _so_ embarrassed about having a crush on _you_.”

__

now, donghyuck sees what his motives are: it was like jaemin was prodding him with a knife, before finding a sensitive spot and plunging into it, twisting around for good measure. it certainly feels that way.

__

sicheng blows his whistle. donghyuck nearly jumps out of his skin at the shrill sound of it. “practice is over for the day! good work everyone, and thank you for making our newest member feel welcome!”

__

the girls happily break formation and go to the sidelines to pick up their bags. several of them wave shyly at yukhei, who does so halfheartedly in return. jaemin takes a step back, but his eyes look hungry, like he wants donghyuck to crumble. donghyuck _knows_ he wants that.

__

“i get where he’s coming from,” he begins as he takes several steps toward yukhei, leaving jaemin and his toxic, powerplay bullshit behind. “i’d know what it’s like to feel embarrassed for ever thinking i had feelings for someone.”

_  
_

_🌩_

__

  


__

__  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quick note: i hope no one is offended by the little coffee shop run by some students with disabilities/physical disorders/mental illnesses, i took inspiration from a real coffee stand at my school run by disabled students, and i wanted to include some other form of diversity to the hs environment in a fic full of asian characters! no offense meant to the people i happened to choose, nor to anyone who has the disabilities/disorders/etc that were alluded to. i do have irls who deal with these sorts of things and would never want to make a caricature of them, just want to represent them in a positive light! and don't worry, the characters mentioned in that scene aren't just shoehorned in for token diversity and are not just defined by their disability/disorder/mental illness, they will make several reappearances throughout this fic and have a lot more depth to them!
> 
> anyways, hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as i did writing it, any feedback would be appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “yukhei,” donghyuck deadpans. “i’m sitting on my pokémon bedspread that i’ve had since i was like, nine. last week i went to gamestop and cashed in cod and halo behind mark’s back so i could buy nintendogs for my ds. i am now raising a toy poodle named coco. i don’t know how much more uninteresting i could possibly get.”

when donghyuck finally manages to stuff his pom-poms into his duffel, he realizes that yukhei isn’t sitting on the bleachers anymore.

he hurries down to the senior lot, which is halfway across campus. every step aches in his bones, but he presses on, the combined weight of his backpack and duffel slowing him down.

several of the girls offered him a ride ( _“backseat’s nice and spacious, donghyuck!”_ chaeyoung had offered with wiggling eyebrows, before cracking up and admitting that she is, in fact, a massive lesbian, and is, in fact, massively in love with her girlfriend, mina), but donghyuck politely declined them. hopefully he won’t regret doing so, he prays as he finally makes it to the lot, having broken a new sweat.

and to his relief, yukhei’s car is sitting in the lot. his forehead is on the steering wheel, and donghyuck would be worried about his state of consciousness if his fingers weren’t drumming mindlessly against the dash.

even though yukhei loves to talk, there must be a lot running through his brain that doesn’t make it past his lips. donghyuck sees it in his exhausted posture, the nervous tapping and mumbling. he seems to have a wealth of pent-up energy within him at all times. donghyuck can barely imagine what it’s like to have even an average amount of energy right now, let alone yukhei’s never-ending supply of it.

“you okay?” he asks as he approaches the open window. he leans his hip against the driver’s side door, bending down a little to yukhei’s level despite his back’s protests. god, he could collapse right here on the baking hot, freshly-laid asphalt, but whatever is left of his sense of self-preservation keeps him upright.

yukhei slowly turns his head, still slumped against the wheel. “i’m sorry about leaving back there,” he murmurs. “i didn’t want to get you in any more trouble than you might have already been in by disrupting practice.”

“sicheng was just making me show off, you weren’t disrupting anything,” donghyuck scoffs. “and jaemin… i don’t even know about him. he just _has_ to be the center of attention at all times.

“ _that’s_ one thing that hasn’t changed,” yukhei says glumly, and he looks hilariously pathetic like this, cheek squished and lips pouted. “d’you need help with putting those in the back?”

“does this tiny thing even have enough room in its trunk?” donghyuck quips, but he steps back so yukhei can get out. he dumps the bags into yukhei’s arms and he takes them without fuss.

“privileged from your time with your brother’s minivan, hmm?” yukhei hums as he stuffs them in the trunk (with a bit of difficulty fitting them, donghyuck notes pettily). “i’m deeply sorry my car can’t be as good to you.”

“yours doesn’t sound like it’s on its last legs whenever you go above 15 miles per hour, at least,” donghyuck tells him as he walks around to the passenger’s seat. “they can’t all be winners.”

“sounds like he needs to get that checked out,” yukhei says in all seriousness. he starts backing out of the lot as some of the senior cheer girls show up. chaeyoung wiggles her eyebrows with somehow even more intensity, and donghyuck resists the urge to flip his new friend(?) the bird. he settles for sticking his tongue out instead.

“it’s been doing that for nearly ten years now, we just consider it one of its charms at this point,” donghyuck replies conversationally. usually, he’d be too crippled with embarrassment to even admit that to yukhei, who drives a convertible and lives in a picture-perfect suburban neighborhood with an inground pool (donghyuck’s caught glimpses of yukhei’s backyard from jaemin’s, since they live next door to each other). in comparison, donghyuck’s just another scrappy poor kid from the outskirts of town.

yukhei takes it in stride, though, like he always seems to. “i could always give it a look,” he offers. “my dad’s taught me how to deal with some under-the-hood stuff.”

“it’s really not a big deal,” donghyuck insists. god, yukhei is so _nice_. too nice for his own good. “just—keep going straight. the turn won’t be for another 20 minutes or so.”

yukhei’s brow furrows. “isn’t that, like, outside of the city limits? at that point you’d be in enemy territory.”

donghyuck becomes very interested in the car interior. “when they redrew the district lines a few years ago, our neighborhood got roped in with their district, so technically, i should be going to jyp high,” he says quietly. “but my brother didn’t want us to have to start at a new school after making friends here and stuff, so. he pays extra to keep us here.”

“woah, that’s really nice of him,” yukhei says after a moment. “i know it must be hard for you guys.”

“i’m not looking for sympathy,” donghyuck can’t help but snap. it’s in taeyong’s nature to be selfless, to do all he can to make sure he and mark are happy. donghyuck knows taeyong took that money out of the pile reserved for him and his own personal desires, but no amount of protests can ever change taeyong’s mind once his heart is set on something.

“and i’m not giving you any,” yukhei retorts, but there’s no malice behind his words as he turns his head to donghyuck. “just acknowledging that you have a really amazing brother.”

it’s easy to forget that sometimes. donghyuck tends to take taeyong and all he gives for granted, without realizing how lucky he really is. taeyong could have abandoned them, could have even put them up for adoption or sent them back to their horrible grandparents halfway across the country. but instead, he gave up his promising future and resigned himself to six years of working his ass off and shedding his youth far too quickly to provide for his younger brothers.

and he wouldn’t admit it until his dying day, but there’s no one in the world donghyuck admires even half as much as taeyong. 

“yeah,” is all he says instead. “i do.”

the rest of the ride is spent in silence, only permeated by the dua lipa album yukhei’s playing over the aux. it’s a sharp contrast from the music donghyuck likes, and far from whatever he’s imagined _yukhei_ would like, but it’s catchy and keeps the atmosphere from dipping too far into awkwardness.

donghyuck finds himself growing increasingly anxious the further they get from the heart of town, leaving behind the fast food restaurants and shopping centers. the only establishments close to his house are the rinky-dink pizza shop and an off-brand gas station that’s always desolate. he’s well-aware that he has a skewed sense of wealth and money, because kids like yukhei are sitting comfortably somewhere in mid-to-high middle class, but being in the high-to-mid low class does that to a person, he figures. especially in the midwest, where new neighborhoods pop up every week, each new house bigger than the last. donghyuck can’t help but compare his family’s own one-story, two-bedroom bungalow to something like that.

he’s learned to be crafty with his spending, thrifting every article of clothing he owns from goodwills and yard sales and such. taeyong has allocated reasonable amounts money for mark and donghyuck to use at their leisure, but now that he has a job, donghyuck keeps his in reserve, ready to give back to taeyong the second he graduates and can finally admit he’s been working this whole time.

taeyong wouldn’t even be mad, really, to find out; never can be all that mad anyways, when it comes to donghyuck. he’d just be disappointed in himself for _making donghyuck feel like what he has to offer isn’t enough,_ or something equally depressing. and the last thing donghyuck wants is for taeyong’s pride to be hurt; that sounds sardonic, but it really isn’t.

before the accident, taeyong was all set to attend julliard, one of the best performing arts universities in america, to pursue dance on some of the best scholarships there were to offer. he was never a prideful person, but this was something he couldn’t even try to be humble about. donghyuck still remembers the day his acceptance letter came in the mail, after months and months of waiting. taeyong had burst through the front door, practically in tears, and donghyuck, mark, and their mother had enthusiastically swarmed him in a hug.

he also still remembers sitting outside the hospital room months later, motionless and numb, that warm moment of celebration light years away as taeyong sat beside him, equally paralyzed with shock. his mind must have been reeling with the implications of what their mother’s death would mean for them. for _him._

and so any pride taeyong held on to was stripped cruelly away from him that night. he threw himself into work that first summer, avoiding his friends like the plague. he was understandably ashamed and distraught, having lost all brightness the future once promised him. slowly, but surely, he found meaning and purpose in taking care of his brothers, in trying to provide for them what he had accepted he would never have.

and that’s become taeyong’s pride now: raising them. everyone that has the pleasure of knowing taeyong admires him for what he gave up for them. and he doesn’t show it often, but taeyong revels in it. he wants their lives to be free of the uncertainty and fear that he lived with for so long, and for him, that means bearing the weight of everything on his shoulders. donghyuck has come to accept that by now, that his brother will never settle for the easy way out.

speaking of which: he texted taeyong earlier informing him of yukhei’s arrival, and he assumes mark had done the same regarding jaemin, so he has no doubt that the house will be spick-and-span the second he steps through the door. they’ve never told him about it outright, but donghyuck figures taeyong must have an idea about why they never spontaneously invite friends over.

the typical state of their house is surprising, given the fact that taeyong is an inconsolable neat freak who makes sure that every cabinet under every sink in the house has at least two bottles of febreze on standby. but donghyuck and mark are, admittedly, slobs, and taeyong has never had the heart to instate a chore chart or force them to clean anything besides their rooms. and with him more often than not pulling double shifts at the coffee shop, there’s not a lot of time left to spruce up the house.

shoes litter the welcome mat and can be found in random piles strewn about various rooms, which often leads to losing one or even an entire pair. crumbs and crusty noodles sink between the couch cushions in the living room, courtesy of the takeout mark and donghyuck have on nights when taeyong won’t get back until 3am (taeyong makes room in their budget for those weekly expenses). the basement is a dumping ground for toys they’ve outgrown or clothes that don’t fit anymore (because taeyong keeps promising that they’ll have a garage sale one of these years). the kitchen cabinets are stocked with pure junk, and the fridge mostly holds those energy drinks taeyong’s addicted to, along with the occasional healthy ingredients he buys when he finds the time to cook a proper meal that isn’t chicken strips and fries from their barrage of freezer foods.

and don’t even get donghyuck _started_ on the bathroom he and mark share, which mark stinks up every other day. in fact, the only relatively clean area in the house is the master bedroom that now belongs to taeyong (yes, at one point in time taeyong also squeezed into mark and donghyuck’s room), and even that reeks of cigarette smoke (he’s been swearing up and down for years that he’ll quit eventually).

in short, their house is in a perpetual state of capital M Mess. but when yukhei pulls up the drive, parking behind taeyong’s minivan (their garage is also too full of clutter to even fit a car inside), you wouldn’t guess that from the neatly-trimmed bush in the front yard, the recently-swept front step, and the freshly-varnished porch swing. of course taeyong could never say no to the two of them, no matter how much cleaning the house may need.

speak of the angel, taeyong must have been nervously hovering by the front door in true taeyong fashion, because he opens it the second donghyuck gets out of the car. “hey kids!” he greets, looking the part of a put-together adult (a far cry from his usual state of chaos). “how was cheer practice, duckie?”

donghyuck flushes at the nickname, but mumbles an _it went fine_ as he heads to the trunk to help yukhei fetch his bags.

yukhei scoffs. “ _fine_? it was _awesome_ , mr. lee! donghyuck did this cool multi-flip thingy!”

donghyuck tries to protest, but taeyong ignores him. “you—you can just call me taeyong,” he stutters, clearly out of his element being addressed so politely. “but i knew this was a good idea, duckie; however, we do need to have a talk later about you landing in detention. _again_.”

“it really wasn’t a big deal, mr. lee!” yukhei continues jovially, still not taking the hint. “he was helping me with something in the library and we got in trouble for talking.”

it’s a blatant lie, and even though the truth is enough to prove donghyuck’s innocence, but he appreciates yukhei’s help all the same. besides, the color of taeyong’s face is akin to donghyuck’s fire engine red hair he sported last summer, and it’s wonderfully amusing. “erm, well—okay,” he finishes lamely.

all signs point to yukhei needing to shut the hell up, but he turns up the brightness of his grin another notch. “donghyuck mentioned you needed someone to look at your car?”

“oh, there’s really no need—” taeyong begins, but yukhei is already depositing the rest of the bags into a breathless donghyuck’s arms and asking taeyong for the hood prop.

once donghyuck comes back outside after leaving his things in the mud room closet, yukhei is _underneath the fucking van,_ the ancient toolbox that none of them know how to use sitting beside his feet. he occasionally slides out from under it, using one of the old skateboards mark never learned how to ride, and taeyong hands him the tool in question.

“we’re supposed to be working on a science project,” donghyuck says helplessly.

taeyong looks up from where he’s crouching on the driveway, looking equally as lost but more so entranced by yukhei’s unabashed… _yukhei-ness_. “i like this one. keep him.”

and if there’s someone around who can shift some of that weight off taeyong’s back, then well, who would donghyuck be to refuse?

  


🌩

  


by the time the car has been fixed, taeyong has taken it for a test drive, and yukhei has thoroughly washed his hands, 45 minutes have passed and donghyuck really needs to get a fucking move on with this project so he can hopefully have his other homework done before 3am tonight.

of course, yukhei has other plans.

“done gawking at our room yet, hotshot?” donghyuck asks, both amused and exasperated. yukhei’s been examining everything in it for a good five minutes, now, and while donghyuck is flattered by his interest, he’s had enough of the unintentional(?) stalling.

“you guys have an entire gaming shelf, how can i _ever_ be done gawking?” yukhei exclaims. “my parents won’t even let me get minecraft on my pc.”

“a lot of this is taeyong’s old consoles, or stuff we got lucky finding at yard sales or flea markets,” donghyuck shrugs, like that damn shelf hasn’t been his and mark’s pride and joy since they were 8 years old. “we’re kind of huge video game nerds.”

yukhei is rifling through their nintendo 64 game collection, utterly enthralled. “you are so… _interesting,_ ” he breathes.

“yukhei,” donghyuck deadpans. “i’m sitting on my pokémon bedspread that i’ve had since i was like, nine. last week i went to gamestop and cashed in cod and halo behind mark’s back so i could buy nintendogs for my ds. i am now raising a toy poodle named coco. i don’t know how much more uninteresting i could possibly get.”

“see, that just makes you _more_ interesting,” yukhei grins. “you dress like an up-and-coming tiktok star, you snarl at everyone who dares to glance at you, but you’re also super fucking good at gymnastics and could be doing _so much cool stuff_ , yet you waste your time playing… nintendo dogs.”

“it’s _nintendogs_ , one word, and i don’t consider becoming the best pet parent in the world a waste of time,” donghyuck retorts. “in the week that i’ve adopted him, i’ve already taught coco _five_ new tricks. tomorrow, we’re going to participate in the beginner’s disc tournament, and coco’s going to kick every other dog’s _ass_.

“and i don’t snarl,” he adds as an afterthought.

yukhei just stares at him, amused and captivated and donghyuck doesn’t have time for nice boys who cheer him on and drive him home and fix his brother’s fucking car looking at him like _that_. “you’re distracting me!” he exclaims, a little too loudly. “we need to start working on our presentation.”

“since when have you ever cared about doing work?” yukhei asks, and that gives donghyuck a freaky sense of déjà vu.

“since when have you ever _not_ cared about that, nerd?” he shoots back. “you have to read the textbook this time; it’s time for my powerpoint skills to shine.”

yukhei shakes his head a little, but relents, leaning against the foot of donghyuck’s bed with the textbook in his lap. donghyuck uses his school-owned laptop to fuck around in google slides, occasionally typing up information yukhei supplies to him that isn’t already in their shared notes file on docs.

he finds himself easily distracted by the back of yukhei’s stupidly pretty head. it must be because this shaggy style is so out of place on him. not that it looks bad (not by any stretch of the imagination), but it’s just… different. it looks soft and slightly damp, probably from the exertion of basketball practice and his unsolicited mechanic stunt.

also: his parents won’t let him play fucking _minecraft?_ maybe donghyuck also has a warped perception of strictness, given that taeyong would let him get away with anything bar murder, but that seems a bit excessive. considering all of the clubs and ap classes yukhei’s in, though, it isn’t unreasonable to assume that his parents are forcing him to focus all of his time and energy on his studies and bolstering his academic record.

maybe yukhei has never not cared about work because he has no other choice except to devote every waking moment to it.

the quiet is disturbed by giggling echoing from down the hall, getting louder as it reaches their door. “there are people in here, please refrain from gross displays of affection!” donghyuck calls out.

it’s mark who peeks his head in, looking slightly apologetic. “oh, sorry hyuck, didn’t know you had someone over,” he says, nodding in greetings to yukhei, a fellow senior, who waves bemusedly in return.

“we’re trying to work on a project, something i’m sure you, as resident morons number one and two, didn’t come here to do,” donghyuck sneers.

as if on cue, the door widens, and moron two’s face comes into view. he’s changed out of his practice clothes, unlike donghyuck, who’s starting to feel sticky in them. there’s a sweatband in his hair, pushing it back from his forehead and revealing strongly sculpted eyebrows, and the shirt he’s wearing is a white button-up unbuttoned far too low down his chest and _wowwowwow_.

“can’t i come in and see your room, duckie darling?” jaemin pouts, and out of the corner of his eye donghyuck sees yukhei’s entire back stiffen. “markie and i can put our… _activities_ on hold to keep you and your study buddy company.”

mark, like the traitorous bitch he is, doesn’t wait for donghyuck’s answer. he opens the door completely and lets jaemin come in.

as soon as he’s inside and has a proper look at who donghyuck’s ‘study buddy’ is, jaemin looks uncharacteristically shocked. it’s a far cry from the asshole who so eagerly called out yukhei at practice mere hours ago, and donghyuck can’t help but be intrigued by it. what _happened_ between them that led to this level of awkward estrangement?

yukhei is boring holes into the textbook, not sparing jaemin a glance. donghyuck resists the sudden and most unwelcome urge to run his fingers through the hair at the nape of yukhei’s neck to calm him down.

it’s… _odd,_ having jaemin here. donghyuck never dared invite him over, because that would absolutely crush poor mark’s heart, and because of all his aforementioned embarrassment regarding his living situation. and jaemin, unlike yukhei, is incredibly quick to judge.

as if to prove this point, jaemin follows mark to his bed, perching on the edge of it almost demurely. “ _love_ what you’ve done with the place,” he drawls, eyeing the original 1978 _dawn of the dead_ poster framed above mark’s bed, as well as other classic horror movie memorabilia, with distaste. “didn’t take you for a… horror buff.”

“only, like, the biggest one ever,” mark says excitedly, and oh god, he’s already proudly unveiling his entire _goosebumps_ collection. “started with these bad boys and it snowballed from there.”

jaemin looks thoroughly disturbed, presumably by the large replica of the creature from the black lagoon’s head that sits menacingly atop mark’s bookshelf, which in itself contains gothic literature such as poe and shelley, along with the more ridiculous _goosebumps_ and _scary stories to tell in the dark_ series. honestly, donghyuck is more surprised that yukhei was more interested in the game shelf in comparison to mark’s entire half of the room.

donghyuck’s half isn’t any less eclectic, though. there’s an incredibly detailed blood-red pentagram drawn directly above his bed, drawn with help from renjun a few years back (taeyong nearly had a heart attack when he saw that), and his side of the room is covered wall to wall in vinyl albums covers, mostly from his mom’s old collection. an old record player sits on donghyuck’s own bookshelf, which has yet more games that donghyuck owns, along with astrology manuals, his tarot cards, and some of his spellbooks and summoning candles from that time he got into wicca.

if it weren’t for the fact that taeyong vetoed their pleads to paint the white walls black and get black-out curtains to match, this room would be the perfect dungeon, but no, the sun streams in through the blinds of the window between their beds and has the audacity to brighten up the place.

donghyuck says as much to jaemin, trying to ignore the flash of heat in his belly every time his eyes drift down to the tanned bit of chest on display, and that about does it for him.

“on second thought, maybe we should let these two study in peace,” jaemin says through a tight-lipped smile. “how about we see if your brother needs any help in the kitchen, babe?”

donghyuck gleefully waves his fingers at jaemin’s retreating back as he pulls mark out of the room (as gleefully as he can when the word _babe_ stabbed him in the heart like a silent killer). as normal and square as mark acts and appears most of the time, he’s actually a horror-obsessed, conspiracy theory-loving freak, and donghyuck loves him to death for it.

“turns out that i didn’t even have to do anything about jaemin; mark’s weirdness did it all for us,” donghyuck says as soon as they’re gone.

yukhei’s shoulders relax. “guess it did,” he laughs, but it’s strained. it isn’t long before he snaps: “god, even without _trying_ he can be such a fucking bully.”

donghyuck almost double takes, because the number of instances in which yukhei has sworn and shit-talked someone in the same breath can be counted on one hand. “that’s rich, coming from you,” he says, trying to sound teasing but mostly coming across as petty.

“huh?” he turns around, confusion replacing any anger. donghyuck realizes, heart-sinkingly so, that yukhei really _doesn’t_ remember.

“dude, you bullied me for, like, two years straight.”

remembrance dawns about 6 years too late. “oh my _god,_ ” yukhei groans. he covers his face with the textbook.

“why are _you_ the embarrassed one?” donghyuck asks incredulously. “i’m the one who got called girly and ugly for two years, among other things. not to mention you chasing me around the playground to fucking torment me and shit.”

“i—i think we both remember things very differently,” yukhei says weakly. “oh my god, i am _so_ fucking sorry, donghyuck, i just used to tease you because—”

his voice falters. donghyuck tries his hand at it: “because—” _you liked me?_ “—jaemin hated me, and you thought you had to hate me too.”

“yeah,” yukhei breathes. “because of that.”

donghyuck stamps down the disappointment settling in his stomach. of course yukhei never fucking liked him. jaemin was just trying to get into his head, like always.

unless yukhei did like him at one point, and now he really is embarrassed by it.

“well now you know why i acted like such a bitch to you the second we were paired up,” donghyuck says, trying to speak over the incessant voices in his head. “it was my piss-poor attempt at getting back at you.”

“trust me, you got back at me,” yukhei mumbles. “and i deserved it. i probably wouldn’t have stopped being an ass, if—”

“—if my mom hadn’t died,” donghyuck fills in bluntly, because he knows. the second word got out, everyone started treating donghyuck a little nicer, even though he was a social outcast thanks to leaving the cheer squad a few months prior. in fact, jeno took it upon himself to grace donghyuck’s usually empty table at lunch with another occupant, and along the way became a permanent fixture in donghyuck’s life. yukhei, meanwhile, disappeared from donghyuck’s life completely, and up until several months ago donghyuck heard and saw very little of him.

“yeah,” yukhei whispers. “i really am sorry, donghyuck. i know i can’t take back the shit i said to you, and how it may have affected you, but. i was a really confused kid, and never meant any of it.”

that’s hard to believe, because yes, it did affect him. it’s part of the reason why he figures looking scary and intimidating is better than feeling backed into a corner, the way yukhei used to make him feel. to hide every emotion with a poker face and pretend he’s stronger than he is. to stay nearly friendless and keep his mouth shut lest something can be used as emotional leverage against him.

“i’m serious, donghyuck,” yukhei continues. he stands up, leaving the textbook on the floor, and sits beside him, too close for comfort. “if you don’t believe that, at least believe me when i say that i will never say shit like that to you again.”

his eyes search donghyuck’s face, looking for some semblance of emotion there, but donghyuck’s too good to give anything away. “if we don’t get most of this done soon, you’ll have to stay for dinner,” donghyuck says, looking straight into yukhei’s eyes like he has nothing to hide instead of everything.

donghyuck assumed he’d want to high-tail it out of here as soon as possible knowing that jaemin was coming over, but yukhei just shrugs. “i’d like that anyways, if you’d let me.”

unlike donghyuck, yukhei is expressive. every emotion shows on his face, in his voice. right now, he looks and sounds scared, almost vulnerable, like he’s laying all his cards out on the table. it’s an open invitation to let him in, by at least a tiny fraction of an inch.

and donghyuck’s never been good at resisting boys with big brown eyes.

  


🌩

  


“this chicken noodle casserole is _superb_ , taeyong.”

it’s the tenth compliment jaemin’s paid him in the last five minutes, but taeyong blushes like it’s the first one he’s heard all over again. “no thanks to your help, jaeminnie,” he says, and donghyuck has to keep a tight grip on his fork lest it end up in someone’s eye.

yukhei started it all, with his damn doe eyes taking in the spread taeyong prepared and a _wow, mr. lee, you didn’t have to go through all this trouble for us!_ , which sent taeyong down another spiral of sputtering. the upsides to him getting all out of sorts like this are a) it’s fucking hilarious and b) their over-the-top reactions mean the stress of cleaning the house and cooking dinner have paid off, and taeyong won’t be smoking half a pack out of sheer pent-up panic at the end of the night.

then jaemin, taking yukhei’s outburst as a threat of some kind to his position as taeyong’s favorite houseguest, began excessively showering taeyong in praise for everything under the sun.

for example: “you did such a good job raising your brothers,” he’s saying, politely covering his mouth as he talks. “such… sweet boys.”

donghyuck would laugh if taeyong wasn’t so wrapped up in jaemin’s bullshit. yukhei, on the other hand, looks vaguely constipated. “they aren’t perfect, but the gains outweigh the losses,” taeyong says fondly, looking at mark and donghyuck, who are sitting closest to him (donghyuck begrudgingly gave up his usual seat to leave it empty so the five of them could sit closer together). it’s sappy and he means every word. “i could say the same to the two of you; your respective families raised such kind boys.”

a look passes between yukhei and jaemin then, stony one that conveys something donghyuck doesn’t quite understand. yukhei breaks the gaze first, staring fixedly down at his plate and ignoring the concerned expression on donghyuck’s face. “if you’ll excuse me, i have to use the restroom,” he says after a moment with an apologetic smile, and gets up to leave, donghyuck staring helplessly after him.

if that look meant anything to jaemin, he doesn’t show it. he merely smiles at taeyong, charm exuding from every pore. “and might i say that your mother raised you just as well, may she rest in peace,” he says, and as theatrical as it sounds, donghyuck can tell he means it.

there's a part of jaemin that’s just trying to charm his way into taeyong’s bleeding heart to get on donghyuck’s nerves, and another that’s genuinely praising donghyuck’s brother because he deserves it. jaemin’s always been difficult to discern, and donghyuck has given up trying at this point.

it’s clear that he _likes_ mark, though to what extent donghyuck isn’t sure. certainly not at the same level mark is, who hangs onto his every word and stares at jaemin, blatantly in awe. if he doesn’t want taeyong to know about their ‘relationship,’ he’s doing a shit job at it.

it makes donghyuck feel more guilty, now, thinking back on this past summer. sure, mark had been hopelessly crushing on jaemin for years, but donghyuck never thought it was that serious. they hadn’t even _spoken_ before; mark must have been infatuated with the idea of jaemin, or even the popularity he could gain from being with him. at least, that’s what donghyuck used to think.

but there are _stars_ in mark’s eyes, and he’s always been a nervous laugher, but every word of jaemin’s has giggles pouring from mark’s mouth. jaemin hasn’t said a single funny thing tonight (or in his life, as far as donghyuck is concerned). he really, _really_ likes him, and donghyuck hopes jaemin knows what exactly he’s gotten himself into.

yukhei returns from the bathroom, looking a little less frazzled. he digs into his food with renewed fervor. he’ll be leaving after this, since they finally made significant progress on their work, but maybe donghyuck will text him later and ask if he’s okay (if he doesn’t chicken out, that is).

there’s a minute or two of blissful silence, just everyone enjoying their meal in peace. then—“i just wanted to say, jaemin,” taeyong speaks up suddenly, looking serious. “i hope that as the captain of the squad, you weren’t too abrasive to donghyuck joining without an audition. it goes beyond sicheng being a close friend of mine; he knows how good donghyuck is at tumbling and has been wanting him to join just as much as me. i hope you don’t see that as unfair, because you also must know that donghyuck would be on the squad from the beginning of freshman year had he auditioned.”

it’s a humble way of bragging about donghyuck’s abilities, and while certainly not unappreciated, donghyuck’s face heats up all the same. mark and yukhei look at him with something like _damn right_ in the smiles they give him, and that just makes him even more flustered.

“oh, of course not!” jaemin lies through gritted teeth. “duckie is _such_ a valuable addition to our team, especially with nationals coming up in november.”

donghyuck knows, logically, that being a member of one of the best high school cheer squads in the state means that he has to go to nationals. he just… doesn’t like thinking about that. hell, he doesn’t like thinking about performing at his first _game_ this week. not only does it go against everything everyone’s ever assumed about donghyuck these past few years, but there’s also some newfound stage fright creeping its way into his mind.

jaemin, of course, can sniff out fear like a fucking shark, and he flashes a lecherous smile donghyuck’s way. “sichengie was going to give me the solo in our performance, but i’ve been thinking someone else deserves it; i’m sure duckie would make the perfect candidate.”

this statement is both like and unlike jaemin at the same time. on the one hand, jaemin’s personal mission in life is to make donghyuck’s life a living hell, and the implication of donghyuck getting a solo at the biggest performance of the year when he’s barely had time to find his footing is certainly that. on the flip side, though, na jaemin giving up an opportunity to bask in attention is number one on the list of things that donghyuck never thought he would see.

“that is most definitely _not_ happening,” donghyuck interjects, the first thing he’s uttered since dinner began. “i’m not good enough for that.”

the table breaks out into protests, and jaemin just sits back, watching him with a satisfied smile. he probably wasn’t even telling the truth, the jerk. he just likes making donghyuck hot under the collar.

eventually, things quiet down again. jaemin and mark are somehow playing footsie beside one another, and yukhei has to be on his third helping. taeyong is the one texting someone under the table tonight, far less subtly than mark. donghyuck hopes it’s a match on tinder, and not someone boring like his boss (donghyuck has met and loves kun, but he is, arguably, very boring).

then, once everyone has just about finished, jaemin decides to open his big, fat mouth. “i think i’ve gushed enough about your son to show how much i care about him,” he starts, and the smile he shares with mark makes donghyuck’s insides curdle. yukhei looks like he feels similarly displaced.

“and after hearing so highly of you, i knew i had to get your permission first,” he continues, and donghyuck realizes what this whole scheme is about far too late. “taeyong, would i be allowed the honor of being mark’s boyfriend?”

mark flushes scarlet; taeyong chokes on his water; donghyuck stews in silence, squeezing his fork so hard his knuckles turn white; yukhei stares forlornly at jaemin, who is once again relishing in the silent chaos he’s just unleashed.

“i—i mean—” taeyong dabs frantically at his spit-covered chin with a napkin. “yeah? of course? you really didn’t need to ask for permission—”

“oh but i felt it was necessary, markie really talks about you with so much reverence,” jaemin simpers; dear god, did he consult a _dictionary_ before this?

finally, mark finds words that don’t contain spurts of giggles. “this was so sweet of you, jaeminnie,” he coos, slotting their hands together. “yong, i know this seems like it came out of nowhere, but this was all so sudden—” _tell me about it,_ donghyuck mutters loud enough for jaemin to hear and smile snidely at him—“i’m just really glad you said yes. wow, this was so unexpected!?”

they’re acting like it was a goddamn marriage proposal, or something. mark lets jaemin give him a chaste peck on the cheek, which taeyong coos at, and he promptly starts begging for the details of this budding relationship, like the secret gossip whore he is. not that there’s much to tell, at least on jaemin’s end.

it’s torture, watching jaemin put on this lovey-dovey act when donghyuck knows it’s all a lie. it’s torture, to see how blissfully unaware of that mark is. it’s torture, to sit here trying to feel bad for his brother when there’s a tiny part of his brain trying to make him _jealous_ of mark instead.

because mark deserves happiness, of course, just—not with jaemin. he deserves it from someone who truly cares about him and his love of horror movies and his soundcloud that he’s trying to get off the ground. jaemin isn’t that someone, but mark is too blinded by years of infatuation to realize that.

there’s another, equally rational part of donghyuck that knows he is largely at fault for this—he stumbled into jaemin’s path, made him more vulnerable than jaemin’s ever been with someone, and then jaemin did what he always does and ran off with someone else. he’s trying to say to donghyuck that he isn’t special, that the three months he had with jaemin was nothing more than the week he spends with all his other flings. that he can ask out donghyuck’s _brother_ and be his boyfriend by the end of the week, something he was too afraid to do with donghyuck himself.

and he plays the part well, because seeing the way jaemin’s eyes sparkle at someone that isn’t him, donghyuck really does feel like he’s worthless, like their time together really did mean nothing.

yukhei stands up again, simultaneously bringing donghyuck out of his reverie and everyone else’s eyes to him. “i should get going—curfew,” he says by way of explanation, and it’s only 7:30 but no one seems to try and argue with him on that as he heads for the hall to retrieve his stuff.

“i’ll, uh—see him out, i guess,” donghyuck says, because he was looking for a way out of this mess anyways. his knees knock against the table as he makes to leave. the triumphant grin jaemin gives him—just affirming that this is all a show, an act to make him feel both jealous and expendable at the same time, with little care for who gets caught in the crossfire—follows him all the way to his room.

yukhei is in the middle of zipping up his backpack when donghyuck enters the threshold. “i’m really sorry, donghyuck i just—i have to go. i can’t be here right now.”

he shoulders past donghyuck, without so much as saying goodbye, and donghyuck hears the front door shut and the convertible’s engine roar as he peels out of the driveway.

as he slowly sits down on the edge of his bed, eyes tracing the spot where yukhei’s lanky body sat on the floor, donghyuck thinks he gets it, now. he sees why even the smallest mentions of jaemin gets yukhei so upset, why he’s been so distant and strange this entire evening.

he sees how ridiculous he’s been, thinking that yukhei could ever harbor something for donghyuck in his heart when a space has so clearly been carved out there for jaemin.

  


🌩

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dun dun DUN


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> donghyuck doesn’t really think there will be much immorality present at this party. how ragin’ can a rager thrown by a high school _sophomore_ possibly be?
> 
> turns out very ragin’, he realizes, when jeno has to park several blocks away from jaemin’s driveway and they can still hear trap music blaring from five doors down.
> 
> “does the bourgeoisie not have to worry about noise complaints?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **trigger warning - subtle reference to self-harm toward the end of the chapter, nothing explicit but proceed with caution**

_5 months ago_

  


“jen, i look ridiculous.”

jeno, busy flat-ironing his hair in his bathroom mirror, doesn’t bother to check when he says “you look great, hyuck.”

“you’re not even looking at me,” donghyuck can’t help but whine.

“because i don’t have to,” jeno says matter-of-factly, but he turns anyway, if only to appease him. “see? you’re hot.”

donghyuck begrudgingly looks at himself in the mirror as jeno manhandles him to stand in front of it. he really shouldn’t have trusted jeno with picking out his outfit, he thinks, as he gives the ensemble a onceover. the low-rise skinny jeans, distressed as always, are a given, cuffed over a pair of high-top chucks. but the black, tight-fitting crop top? sure, donghyuck’s always been a little proud of the lean muscle of his stomach, but….

“it’s the belly button piercing,” jeno says, noticing how donghyuck’s eyes are caught on the glinting jewelry in the glass.

“people will _stare_ at it,” he says glumly, affirming jeno’s suspicions. it’s the product of a 3am idea at one of his and jeno’s sleepovers that’s only a month fresh, and taeyong had a fucking hernia over it, but donghyuck will admit he likes the way the silver gem looks against the tanned, taut skin of his abdomen, and hasn’t regretted it.

that is, until jeno insisted he show it off in front of na jaemin and god and the entire student body on a tuesday.

“people already stare at you,” jeno tells him. he goes back to straightening his hair, clearly not caring much for donghyuck’s plight. “because you’re pretty. and scary. but mostly because you’re pretty.”

donghyuck doesn’t like the fact that people stare at him in any context, but knows he’s just asking for it at this point. tonight is no exception: along with his outfit, his makeup tonight is dark and smokey and glittery and meant to attract attention. but donghyuck really does this for his own enjoyment, not for the appraisal of anyone else.

“at least let me wear this over the crop top,” donghyuck pleads, holding up the leather jacket he’d worn to jeno’s, so he could leave the house without taeyong having a heart attack. “i won’t zip it.”

jeno sighs and puts down the straightener, seemingly satisfied with the mop of dark, dark hair that hangs in his eyes. why can the straights get away without styling their hair for the gods and still look infuriatingly attractive? “fine, but only because that will make you even hotter. aesthetically and literally.”

“if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you have a thing for me, jeno lee,” donghyuck teases. he throws on the jacket and immediately feels ten times more comfortable.

jeno rolls his eyes benevolently. “as long as my idiot of a best friend knows how good he looks at all times, i don’t care what he or anyone else thinks,” he snarks.

donghyuck coos. “you’re the _beeessst,_ jen.”

“i know,” jeno deadpans, but he lets donghyuck wrap him in a tight embrace and shake him from side to side, because he always does. “now get your lip gloss on so we can make these boys fall at your feet.”

“that’s your prerogative, and i have no desire to partake in that,” donghyuck protests, shoving at jeno’s shoulder. “wait, i forgot. _your_ prerogative is getting yeeun to give you the time of day.”

it’s jeno’s turn to sulk, now, comically so as he hides behind his fringe. god, he’s been growing this lustrous monstrosity for all of sophomore year since soccer season ended, donghyuck prays it bites the bullet soon before he takes matters (and a pair of shears) into his own hands. “she probably just told me she was going to get me off her back,” he laments. “she’s not the type to party.”

“by that you mean she actually has brain cells,” donghyuck can’t help but remark as he applies the purple-tinted gloss with precision. the only reason _he_ has the absolute pleasure of attending na jaemin’s quote unquote ‘rager’ is at jeno’s (incessant) request. “mark isn’t even going, and he has less brain cells than i have As on my final report card.”

“i’m not going to point out how equally dumb that makes _you_ sound, just because taeyong is going to ground you for _weeks_ when report cards come in the mail,” jeno grins, dodging the kick donghyuck aims at his ass as they descend the many, many stairs in jeno’s gigantic house. “but also, mark wasn’t even _invited_.”

donghyuck frowns. “yeah, he was pouting about it when i left him.” a part of him feels bad for not dragging mark’s socially inept ass along, but the more rational part of him knows that mark is a notorious snitch, and his pathetic schoolboy crush on jaemin will never be outweighed by his loyalty to taeyong and to his strong moral compass, or whatever. moral compass is not a phrase that can even be attributed to donghyuck, let alone be a part of his vernacular.

though donghyuck doesn’t really think there will be much immorality present at this party. how ragin’ can a rager thrown by a high school _sophomore_ possibly be?

turns out very ragin’, he realizes, when jeno has to park several blocks away from jaemin’s driveway and they can still hear trap music blaring from five doors down.

“does the bourgeoisie not have to worry about noise complaints?” donghyuck asks as he steps out, giving his hair a onceover. it’s black, like it has been for a few months now. lately jeno’s been trying to get him to dye it purple, and the idea does sound very tempting, even if taeyong would fucking astral project (if you couldn’t tell, taeyong acts as donghyuck’s impulse control, while jeno is the utter antithesis to that).

“most of them have kids at this party whether they like it or not, so they may as well put up with it for a night unless they want to bail them out the next morning,” jeno shrugs.

donghyuck scoffs at this, because why would police intervention be needed at a college student’s perceived equivalent of a fifth grader’s birthday party, until he steps through na jaemin’s front door and makes note of these three things, in this exact order: 

    

> first: jaemin’s house is fucking _huge_. that was obvious from the second it came into view. for fuck’s sake, jeno had to punch in a code at a fucking gate when they got to his neighborhood. the main entrance has been turned into a dance floor of sorts, and it extends for what looks like forever. and despite that, the house is packed to the brim, every face he sees looking vaguely familiar under the fucking strobe lights that hang from the ridiculously high ceilings. donghyuck now understands why mrs. na never let him set foot into their house: donghyuck definitely would have destroyed the place out of spite.  
> 

  


    

>   
>  second: the kitchen’s massive island, barely visible through the writhing bodies, is laden with alcohol. jaemin probably raided his parent’s liquor cabinet (donghyuck wouldn’t be surprised if the place came with an entire wine cellar, like it’s the palazzo in the fucking _cask of amontillado_ or something). not to mention the puffs of smoke that are periodically going through the air, because of _course_ everyone brought their juuls. donghyuck knows jeno has his in his back pocket, and if he had the spare money or the desire to take hits off one on the regular, he’d have one too. luckily jeno is willing to share whenever he’s in the mood.

  


    

>   
>  third: na jaemin is on the second floor landing that looms above the ground floor, pressed up against the wall making out with some guy. donghyuck doesn’t recognize him, because all he sees is the back of the dude’s head, hair fisted in jaemin’s hands as he tries to stick his tongue so far down jaemin’s throat he may as well go spelunking down there while he’s at it. jaemin looks bored with it, eyes half open as his mouth moves rather lazily in contrast to his partner’s overenthusiasm.  
> 

  


“i heard he got all the liquor from some college dude he hooked up with,” someone is saying, and donghyuck tears his eyes away from jaemin to see renjun, and beside him, chenle, standing in front of him and jeno with white claws extended toward them. 

“you guys don’t even _go_ to our school, how are you _here,_ ” donghyuck grumbles, but he begrudgingly accepts the white claw and takes a swig like it’s nothing. donghyuck’s gotten good at pretending he’s cooler than he is. at least it’s mango flavored, which lessons the sour taste of alcohol on his tongue. “mark’s not here by the way,” he tells renjun, whose shoulders sag.

“word travels farther than you think,” is all chenle gives him as far as a straight answer goes, and as soon as they appeared they’re gone again, disappearing into the fray to cause chaos like they always do (though chenle has to drag a saddened renjun by the arm).

jeno shakes his head, before downing half of his white claw in one go. “not going to look a gift horse in the mouth,” he shrugs, and he makes his way into the crowd, donghyuck in tow.

people are— _staring_. many of them give donghyuck appreciative onceovers before remembering _oh shit, that’s donghyuck lee_ , and they glance away as if nothing happened. donghyuck keeps his head high and scowl on until they reach the kitchen.

sooyoung is doing fucking body shots off of some chick on the table, surrounded by horny onlookers, and donghyuck can’t even be embarrassed to see one of his older coworkers here, as weird as it is to see her out of her unflattering uniform and in something decidedly more… scandalous. she even flashes him a grin as he passes by, no shame in her eyes as she bites down on the lime between her teeth.

the entire varsity basketball team is concocting some jungle juice for one another with the arrangement jaemin has laid out. it’s common knowledge that jaemin is slowly making his way through each of them, with his latest conquest being hyunjin hwang, who stands in the middle of the throng of idiots, his blond hair tied back into a short ponytail.

towering above the team’s huddle is yukhei wong, who donghyuck glares at the moment their eyes meet. yukhei had been staring, quite obviously, but donghyuck’s piercing stare is enough for his eyes to drop, cheeks flushing red. donghyuck rolls his eyes. _asshole._

there’s a pool out back, with scantily clad girls and half-naked guys splashing around. jeno hadn’t prepared swimming outfits for the two of them, thankfully, and they bypass the sliding glass door in favor of moving into a side lounge room, where some of the nerds that somehow got invited are playing mario kart or some shit in front of a gigantic flatscreen.

their gaming session has been crashed by a circle of giggling seniors and a few college kids, who are playing a drunken game of king’s cup. jeno and donghyuck sit in one corner of the room on the one free couch that’s left, immediately retreating into their antisocial shells. remind him why jeno wanted to go to this in the first place if they were just going to do what they could do at home (granted, minus alcohol)?

“hey hyuck, care to play with us?”

oh right, to get him laid.

seongwoo ong, part of taeyong’s graduating class and a former gymnastics student teacher that donghyuck had a ridiculous crush on for years, is smiling at him invitingly. “i’m not familiar with the rules,” he admits coolly, observing seongwoo’s sharp, angular features over the top of his drink.

seongwoo’s eyes glint with something like interest, and donghyuck is _jailbait_ and this is something that would only play out in his wildest dreams, but _god,_ does he want to indulge this fantasy. “i’m sure i can catch you up to speed,” he practically _purrs_ , and holy fuck this is a terrible idea.

jeno gives him a gentle nudge in the ribs, silently encouraging him, but donghyuck reluctantly shakes his head. “planning on make it home in one piece, babe,” he drawls, like he isn’t weeping on the inside.

“suit yourself,” seongwoo shrugs, and just like that he’s gone, slipping through donghyuck’s fingers. it’s crazy, thinking of how smitten donghyuck was with him years ago, and how easily he would still give into him now.

“are you _crazy?_ ” jeno hisses in his ear. “he was totally into you.”

“he’s also five years older than me,” donghyuck hisses back. “and i need to pee. budge up.”

jeno sighs but does as told. donghyuck downs the rest of his drink, sparing seongwoo’s back (even his backside is handsome, goddamnit) one last glance before he embarks on a journey to locate jaemin’s bathroom in this labyrinth.

the first one he finds on the ground floor is taken, occupied by a group of girls holding their friend’s hair back as she retches. “don’t try hyunjin’s jungle juice,” is all she’s able to say to a bewildered donghyuck before turning back to the toilet, and the door is slammed on his face.

so he continues his search upstairs, awkwardly tiptoeing around the people perched on the stairs, most of whom are fondling each other like they have all the privacy in the world. christ, when did high schoolers become this depraved? and they’re intimidated by _donghyuck_ , who probably feels the most out of place here.

jaemin and his tongue fanatic are still going at it, despite jaemin’s obvious lack of eagerness. he turns his head at the sound of donghyuck’s shoes against the hardwood hall floor, so the guy is making out with the corner of his mouth. his eyes meet donghyuck’s, then, and they’re lidded as he sizes donghyuck up, and doesn’t look away. donghyuck’s mouth goes dry.

he’s never really noticed how… _pretty_ jaemin is. his eyes are unfairly captivating, the color of dark chocolate, bitter but syrupy sweet all at once. the bridge of his nose is flat and doesn’t round off at the tip the way donghyuck’s does, instead widening out a little, but it makes the shape of his face that much more elongated, punctuated by the sharpness of his jaw and cheekbones.

he murmurs something into the guy’s mouth, and pushes him away. as he approaches donghyuck, he wipes his mouth on the back of his sleeve, but his lips look comically untouched, like the asshole’s tongue touched everywhere except the most important part when kissing.

faintly, donghyuck thinks he could do a better job.

but this is na jaemin he’s talking about, who donghyuck has hated with a passion since preschool. sure, they haven’t spoken since that last day of cheer practice before donghyuck quit, but that doesn’t mean donghyuck hasn’t hated him from afar. and he knows jaemin hasn’t forgotten either:

“donghyuck lee,” he says, sounding a little bit like he’s had the wind knocked out of him. he’s wearing a black tank top and distressed jeans, his muscular arms and a good portion of his tanned legs on display (not that donghyuck is looking). and christ, his _smile_ —his teeth are prominent but straight, white and practically sparkling. “just the person i needed to see.

“well, i needed to see _someone_ to get me away from… that,” he clarifies with a pointed eye roll. he gestures behind him to the asshole, who’s glaring at donghyuck, but doesn’t look all too eager to come over, either. “but you’re the perfect person to stand there and be menacing enough to ward off boys.”

“glad i could be of service,” donghyuck says sarcastically, trying his very best to keep his eyes on jaemin’s face rather than his collarbone (which… isn’t hard either. it isn’t unappealing). “but i just came up to find a bathroom that isn’t being used for blowing chunks.”

“ugh, again?” jaemin whines. “i _told_ hyunjin to stop mixing drinks together at my parties.”

donghyuck isn’t surprised that this is a regular occurrence. with a house like this, he’d probably host a fuckton of parties too. “care to be a good host and show me to the bathroom?” he presses, because the white claw he chugged is really catching up to him (he has a small bladder, okay).

“fine, party pooper,” jaemin sighs, and before donghyuck can say anything, his hand is encased in jaemin’s slightly larger one, and he’s hit with memories of a time when he used to be taller than jaemin (he used to be taller than a lot of boys in his grade, before puberty sadly set in and they all shot up. sure, 5’8’’ ain’t bad, but it doesn’t really help his so-called _menacing_ image, not to mention his horrible slouching habit that makes him even shorter than he is).

jaemin bypasses a door that is wide open to show a perfectly usable bathroom, but he drags donghyuck past it. “someone was in there for, like, an _hour_ and it smells horrible; tried to air it out to no avail,” he says by way of explanation. “yet another mess to clean up for me!”

“why throw parties if you don’t like cleaning up after them?” donghyuck finds himself asking. it’s the second time jaemin’s complained about it in the last five minutes; it’s a valid question. “and don’t your parents hire some maid that lives in her own little quarters somewhere in this mansion?”

“don’t be ridiculous,” jaemin scoffs. “she has her own house.”

he opens a door at the end of the hall, revealing the entryway to a bedroom that’s relatively barren. there’s a wall laden with trophies and medals, mostly gymnastics and cheer ones, and… that’s about it. there’s a massive canopy bed, neatly made, and across from that a desk with some expensive gaming monitors that donghyuck could salivate at, but not much else in the way of decoration or even comfort. “the bathroom’s to the right,” jaemin tells him, and sure enough, there’s a little hallway off of the entry that leads to an ensuite bathroom. of course there is.

the bathroom is equally bland, and almost unused. donghyuck never thought he would miss the smell of mark’s body spray trying to mask his dumps, but the sterile, bleach-esque air in here almost makes him uncomfortable. either the maid does a really good job, or jaemin doesn’t stay here often.

jaemin is sitting on his bed when donghyuck rounds the corner of the ensuite’s hallway, wiping his hands off on his jeans. he looks out of place in his own room in a way, looking ruffled and imperfect against the stark white bedsheets and barren, cream-colored walls. his hair, caramel brown tinged with honey-blonde highlights, hangs messily in his eyes, any styling he’d done ruined by the asshole’s fingers running through it.

“i throw parties because i’m lonely,” he says after a moment. he’s staring intently at his wall of trophies, eyes raking over them blankly. donghyuck could almost scoff at that, but jaemin looks so _empty_ as he says those words, and he feels miles away from the jaemin who’d come up to him minutes ago with that damn look in his eyes. “getting drunk until i don’t feel lonely works, too. i say too much when i’m drunk, case and point.”

donghyuck, at a loss for words and feeling light as the alcohol starts to flood his system, steps forward, closer, closer, until he’s standing right in front of jaemin, forcing him to look up to meet donghyuck’s searching gaze. he looks small like this, vulnerable, a side of the poised and prissy na jaemin that donghyuck has never seen before.

“your piercing’s hot,” he says, eyeing it, and belatedly donghyuck realizes his stomach is directly in jaemin’s line of sight. “want it in my mouth.”

the music playing downstairs is but a muzzy vibration that donghyuck can feel in his feet, a pleasant thrum that grounds him to the utter unprecedented nature of this moment. the mood in jaemin’s eyes shifts, and he’s suddenly open and inviting and _wanting_ , and donghyuck feels all-too pliant under the heat of his gaze.

“nothing’s stopping you,” donghyuck whispers, voice hoarse, and that’s all the affirmation jaemin needs.

his mouth races forward, enclosing the glinting jewelry in his lips and suckling on it, the sensitive skin surrounding it sending a jolt of... _something_ down donghyuck’s spine. he grips the sides of donghyuck’s hips in his hands, massaging the skin there gently, and his thumbs can almost touch each other at the thinnest point of his waist. that realization does more to donghyuck than he’d like to admit.

jaemin gives the piercing a tantalizing lick before he focuses his attention on the rest of donghyuck’s stomach, nibbling and sucking, leaving blossoms of cherry-red in his wake. and fuck, donghyuck didn’t know his abdomen was so damn _responsive_ to touch, with his stomach lurching everytime jaemin laves his tongue over a new bite, occasionally giving attention to the piercing with his teeth and tongue.

donghyuck’s weak in the knees, and jaemin doesn’t complain when he nearly collapses, boneless, into jaemin’s lap. in fact, he pushes himself backward, giving donghyuck room to straddle his thighs more comfortably. they hover inches away from each other, breath intermingling as they struggle to regain composure, before jaemin surges forward again and softly connects their lips.

it’s a slow drag, mouths against mouths and tongue against tongue, and donghyuck revels in it. he’s kissed a few boys in his time, curious ones who approached him in the bathroom or empty hallways and the like, but the expertise jaemin brings to his kisses is heady, intoxicating. those lips were wasted on that asshole and all the others before him, as far as donghyuck is concerned.

jaemin curls his tongue against the roof of donghyuck’s mouth, sucking and releasing with a delicious-sounding _smack_. “fuck,” he breathes against his lips, and donghyuck shares the sentiment.

as he pushes jaemin flat on his back on the bed, rumpling the pristine sheets and pressing them chest to chest, donghyuck faintly realizes he has no idea what he’s gotten himself into.

  


🌩

  


_2 months ago_

  


“you’ll get in trouble one of these days for driving without a license, hotshot.”

jaemin lowers his head to grin mischievously at donghyuck over the rims of his sunglasses. he bites down on his lower lip, eyeing him from top to bottom. donghyuck just smirks back, knowing jaemin can’t resist him in a crop top (he’ll have to thank jeno for forcing him into that one all those weeks ago). “so you keep telling me, sweetheart, but you always find yourself in my backseat one way or another.”

“that makes me sound easy,” donghyuck huffs, but he leans forward to give jaemin a perfunctory kiss that makes him whine and try to go in for another. “patience is a virtue, darling,” he teases, patting jaemin’s cheek before walking around to the passenger’s side.

their hands tangle on the center console, and donghyuck hates how his stomach swoops every single time jaemin rubs his thumb against donghyuck’s own. and he has to admit that jaemin is a damn good driver—he uses one hand almost exclusively, keeping his other one free to hold donghyuck’s hand or squeeze his thigh. it’s unfairly hot.

it’s been just over two months since that fated end-of-the-year party, and jaemin and donghyuck have been… seeing each other quite often ever since then. jaemin had sought him out on instagram the morning after, a pouty _forgot to ask for your #, darling :’(_ , and with blessings from jeno, donghyuck had replied with said number (and a tasteful winky emoticon).

and things with jaemin are—different, that’s for sure. donghyuck’s never felt the way he does with him, warm and wild and _wanting_ , but those feelings aren’t unwelcome.

that doesn’t mean he hasn’t proceeded with caution, however. anyone who’s anyone knows about na jaemin’s penchant for picking one boy out of the bunch and leaving him high and dry after a week. and sure, they don’t spend a lot of time _talking,_ but if the way jaemin touches and kisses him with the fervor of a man starved, he isn’t seeing anyone else on the side.

in short, donghyuck is a hell of a departure from jaemin’s other conquests, and he’s trying desperately not to hope that it might mean something.

jaemin takes a turn contrary to the usual route he takes to his mcmansion, and donghyuck quirks a brow. “no swimming today?” he asks, goading. “was hoping i could show off my new bathing suit.”

“you know you wouldn’t keep it on for very long, babe.” jaemin has a way of making everything he says flirtatious in a way that both infuriates and entices him. “but my parents just got back from their respective business trips, conveniently. or inconveniently, since they fucking hate each other.”

in the last two months, donghyuck’s wheedled out a few tidbits about his elusive parents, who go on ‘business trips’ almost constantly. as the president of the school board, mr. na sure has a lot of other side gigs that make him a fuckton of money. mrs. na is a management consultant or whatever, which donghyuck remembers learning in their childhood, but he’s still in the dark about jaemin’s father. sometimes, it seems as though jaemin himself doesn’t really know what his father’s doing or where he even _is_ half the time.

but given the malice with which he speaks and the tightness of his jaw, donghyuck begins to take in other signs of jaemin’s aggravation (and the bottle of smirnoff ice in his door’s side pocket, half-empty). he’d had his suspicions when jaemin texted him out of the blue, asking him to come outside. he usually gave a warning at least an hour before showing up at donghyuck’s house in his mercedes-benz (which he legally wasn’t allowed to drive without a licensed adult, since he was still 15).

up until now, donghyuck has acclimized himself to their relationship being nothing but a hookup with great chemistry and even better… _physical_ intimacy. he’s not _dating_ jaemin, or anything. sure, they go to the movies every week and brush each other’s fingers on purpose in the popcorn, and swim in jaemin’s pool and race each other in exchange for kisses (that quickly devolve into something more), and jaemin knows that he likes ridiculously sweet caramel frappes with an extra espresso shot from starbucks and can rattle off the typical build of his burger in a heartbeat, and they went to the fair last week with the sun beating down on their cheeks and their sweaty hands intertwined, but no. they’re not dating.

and this is an arrangement they’ve both silently agreed upon and fell into, and donghyuck doesn’t want to breach the topic and shatter the illusion. he knows jaemin must think he’s the perfect candidate for a summer fling like this: he doesn’t give a shit about anything, so the same lack of care must be applied to matters of the heart, right?

it’s times like these when donghyuck realizes he’s dug himself into a hole he can’t escape from. jaemin is jaemin; he humps and dumps, it’s kind of his thing. he doesn’t have time for donghyuck picking his brain about his family or anything in his personal life, really. instead he relies on trivial things: jaemin’s love for iced americanos, bitter like the taste of the dark chocolate his eyes resemble and like his personality, if personalities had a taste. jaemin is hot and cold, sweet and sour, two halves of a broken whole. he’s so much _more_ than he portrays on the surface, and donghyuck wants to delve into it, into _him_ , wants to dive deep beneath the shallow waters and into the depths that jaemin oh-so-tactfully bars off from him.

he supposes he’s not the first one to feel this way, and he won’t be the last. that only makes that dull, ever-present ache in his chest bloom into something truly excruciating.

and donghyuck knows how susceptible he is to falling: he really is careless about his heart, just not in the way jaemin may think. he gives it away too easily, almost loses it entirely, and has to pick up the pieces of it when it’s returned to him, shattered and irreparable. that’s how donghyuck’s always felt: like the physical embodiment of a broken heart, painfully invisible yet painfully _painful_. like he’s been scooped clean on the inside after each heartbreak, but poorly so, the unsightly, agonizing bits left behind.

maybe donghyuck hasn’t fallen into a love like that before, but a mother’s love is even more powerful than romance, wouldn’t you say?

being in the car with jaemin when he’s like this, tipsy and resentful, magnifies donghyuck’s emptiness and self-loathing. because it’s people like this that get behind the wheel and do things they regret. it’s people like this that ends the life of an innocent single mother, already beaten down from the struggle of raising three young boys. it’s people like this that make the world so damn _unfair_.

it’s people like this who are the reasons why donghyuck tries to protect his heart. people come into your life, and you love them, so fiercely and so strongly that it _hurts,_ but that pain is insignificant when the person you loved is _gone_.

but he’s weak, _god_ is he weak. weak for jaemin’s pretty smile and the smoky timbre of his voice and the mole on his inner thigh and the birthmark shaped like the state of california on his scalp behind his ear. weak like his knees were the day jaemin landed him in this mess with his sparkling eyes and whispered words.

he’s weak for falling, knowing that it’s people like jaemin who set him up for eventual devastation. donghyuck is a weak and frail lamb leading himself to slaughter.

but he can’t bring himself to turn around.

the sun is ducking below the trees by the time jaemin pulls onto a side road, half-obscured by bushes, and donghyuck knows where he’s headed: to the hill with the unofficial moniker _‘makeout point’_. it only reaffirms everything he knows about what jaemin uses him, and perhaps everyone else, for: escape, release. from whatever demons wait for him at home and hide behind the wealth and opulence. from the loneliness he mentioned once and never brought up again. jaemin uses donghyuck and every one of his fucking targets to fulfill that part of him that never felt mommy and daddy’s love, that was never validated or valued for anything but the gold trophies on his shelf.

the catch: jaemin only wants to _be_ loved, not love in return.

and donghyuck, like the fucking doormat that he is, falls into the trap jaemin no doubt set for him at the very beginning, the same one he’s set time and time again.

the car comes to a slow stop in a secluded area, surrounded by trees and overgrown foliage. there’s tread marks all around, and donghyuck doesn’t even want to know how many people jaemin has taken here before, has charmed and gotten the attention he always fucking _craves_ from.

“want some?” jaemin asks, and donghyuck turns to see him holding the bottle of smirnoff, extending it to him. he takes it and almost downs the whole thing in one go. “woah, someone’s in a partyin’ mood tonight.

“speaking of which,” he continues, because donghyuck is too busy taking another sip, “i’m thinking of throwing another party this weekend, since it’ll probably be the last one i can squeeze in before school starts, and it’s close enough to my birthday for me to make everyone buy me presents. my parents are already booking their next flights, so they’ll be out by saturday. you can be my plus-one, babe.”

donghyuck thinks for a moment. this saturday is mark’s birthday, and he knows taeyong has already started work on a cake that looks scarily like the titular eye from _the crawling eye_. he also promised mark that he would binge watch old B horror movies together that same night. “it’s my brother’s birthday on saturday, so i don’t think i can make it.”

jaemin pouts, wrestling the bottle from him and taking a swig. “seriously? his name’s matt or whatever, right?"

“mark,” donghyuck whispers.

“oh, yeah,” he says dismissively. he lifts up donghyuck’s chin with his index finger, cocking his head inquisitively. “why so sad, babe? sorry we couldn’t go swimming, you can on saturday though, i’d love to see you in that swimsuit you mentioned—”

“ _jaemin_ ,” donghyuck interrupts. “i’m not going.”

jaemin’s teasing grin falls. “seriously?” he asks, in actual disbelief. “you’re going to ditch a na jaemin party in favor of playing scrabble with your brother or whatever the hell that nerd does in his free time?”

this is the side of jaemin that donghyuck’s always hated: the self-centered _bully_ that he can be. it comes out more often when he’s drunk, which is infuriatingly often. he can be petulant and whiny, like the kid he was when donghyuck thought he knew him (he’s since realized he never did. and probably never will).

“he’s my _brother_ ,” is all donghyuck can muster, because mark does like playing scrabble on the weekends. “the world doesn’t revolve around you, as much as you wish it would.”

“i thought we were done with these stupid arguments,” jaemin groans. “what are we, seven again?”

“ _you_ started it,” donghyuck retorts, knowing how childish and petty he sounds, but _god,_ jaemin still knows how to piss him off after all these years. “stop talking shit about my _goddamn_ brother and just accept that i’m not going to your pathetic excuse for a birthday party.”

“christ, why are you so pissed?” jaemin asks, and he always does this, this… _gaslighting,_ almost. like he doesn’t know exactly _why_ donghyuck is mad at him. _deserves_ to be, really, for using him like he has been the whole damn summer.

“because you’re being a selfish bastard,” he shoots back simply, and revels in the shocked expression that overcomes jaemin’s face. “sowwy you don’t have any famiwy that wuvs you enough to spend your birfday wif,” he mocks.

and just like that, the fight seeps out of jaemin as quickly as it had come. donghyuck doesn’t win these battles often, but the victory is bittersweet. “fuck you,” he mutters, knuckles tightening around the neck of the bottle. he drinks it to the dregs and throws it out the open window, the sound of glass crashing in the distance ringing in donghyuck’s ears as their lips crash against each other’s.

jaemin holds his wrists in his hands, keeping him from pushing him away the way he knows donghyuck wants to. but donghyuck melts into it faster than he’d like to admit, reaching forward with his hands to grab the lapels of the leather jacket jaemin’s wearing (which just so happens to be his), pulling him closer. “you—are—insufferable,” he sighs against jaemin’s mouth, and jaemin responds by stuffing his hand down the front of donghyuck’s cotton shorts.

any and all rational thought is lost after that; donghyuck realizes later, as he stumbles into his house hours later, that that was probably jaemin’s intention.

  


🌩

  


“dude, you’re the one making me watch _empire of the ants,_ why the hell do _you_ get to be on your phone?”

“sorry,” mark says, not sounding sorry in the slightest as he squints at his phone screen. donghyuck knows his glasses are somewhere in their room, but they’re both too lazy to get up and look for them. “my notifications are blowing up.”

they’re camping out in the living room tonight, with taeyong passed out on the armchair across from them as is the routine for mark’s annual birthday bingewatch bonanza. it’s about 3:30 in the morning, and donghyuck has reached his limit for scream queens and final girl circuits for the night. at least _empire of the ants_ is ridiculous enough to hold his interest, as the shitty looking giant ant models waddle across a dock and onto a speeder boat.

donghyuck looks away from the ants being hacked away at by a machete-wielding robert lansing to peer at mark’s phone. “you _still_ have jaemin’s instagram notifications on?” he asks, hoping the tinge of jealousy he feels doesn’t show in his voice.

“you can’t make fun of me on my birthday,” mark mumbles, hiding his face, and donghyuck is too delirious to point out that it’s technically the next day now. “his account is only the biggest source of gossip for the whole school, okay.”

“uh-huh, and you don’t have a pathetic crush on him,” donghyuck says. he’s not really sure who he’s talking to at this point. “...what’s the gossip?” god, he sounds like chenle and renjun.

“he finally tagged someone else in his posts after, like, two months of not doing it,” mark explains, then sighs at donghyuck’s confusion. “jaemin always tags the person he’s dating, right? so everyone knows who he’s with right now. he didn’t do that for two months but he still posted a lot of pictures, see?”

he scrolls through the page, and with a sinking feeling donghyuck starts to recognize the pictures. there’s one of his caramel frappes, and the giant stuffed bear he’d won for jaemin at the fair, and various photos of movie tickets from the ones they’d seen. as someone who doesn’t frequent social media often, donghyuck had never even seen this before.

“but tonight, he’s posting all these pictures from his party—and he tagged yangyang liu,” mark says. “ _another_ basketball team member; i thought he’d made his way through all of them by now.”

“the fact that you’re in love with this asshole is a true testament to your stupidity,” donghyuck says, almost on autopilot, staring at the photo mark is showing him; the latest one in jaemin’s feed. it’s a silhouette, sitting on jaemin’s bed the way donghyuck has done so many times, the tag revealing who the silhouette belongs to. jaemin took dozens upon dozens of photos commemorating the time they spent together. and one picture of fucking yangyang liu is all it takes for him to show off to the world who his new fuckbuddy is.

donghyuck shouldn’t even be surprised. jaemin hasn’t texted him in three days, the same day he dropped donghyuck off after their fight-turned-makeup-sex. and he should be glad, honestly. that’s what he wanted, right? to cut things off, stop himself from getting into a world of hurt and leaving him even worse off than he was before this whole mess.

that’s what he wanted two months ago, at least, before he got too carried away and fell in too deep, too quick.

mark puts his phone down eventually, looking as dejected as he always does when jaemin debuts his new boytoy. “i know you guys hated each other as kids or whatever, but that doesn’t mean you have to shit-talk him at every opportunity, okay? jaemin’s a good guy, he just… needs some nudging in the right direction.”

 _he doesn’t even know who you_ are, _he doesn’t fucking care about you,_ donghyuck wants to scream, but instead he just shakes his head and picks at his nails, all interest in the movie gone.

leave it to mark to see the best in people. he always insists that there’s some untapped potential in everyone. he’s freakishly optimistic for someone so into horror and sci-fi, but donghyuck’s come to accept the many facets of his second oldest brother. and he loves him for it, because he loves mark to death, but it’s frustrating sometimes, seeing how naive he can be. how much he cares about someone who barely acknowledges his existence, who can’t even remember his fucking _name_.

but that’s how mark is, and donghyuck knows he has to accept that. nothing he could ever say to mark, regardless of how good his intentions may be, could persuade him to believe something contrary to how he perceives someone like jaemin, until he’s been forced to see it with his own eyes. taeyong can be that way, too, and it leads to the both of them getting hurt by the realization that good really doesn’t exist everywhere.

donghyuck struggles, sometimes, being in a family of perpetual optimists. perhaps he’s so used to thinking negatively of himself and everything around him, that he’s conditioned himself to view anything remotely positive or hopeful as unrealistic and immature. perhaps, he sets himself up for failure and heartbreak by assuming the worst will always happen.

perhaps, that sort of mentality is why things with jaemin never worked out in the first place.

and while that might be partially true, donghyuck also knows that jaemin is equally at fault. he gets so personally offended by things, even if it doesn’t show it at first. this is his way of getting back at donghyuck for his scathing words, as if donghyuck didn’t already regret them the second they left his mouth, but still, it works.

it works in that donghyuck finds himself on jaemin’s instagram later, once mark has finally bit the bullet and fallen asleep in a cocoon of blankets on the floor, scrolling through the pictures of jaemin’s mementos, _their_ mementos, recalling specific instances from each photo. it works in that the ache in his chest spreads through his entire body, until the pain is all he can think about. it works in that he lies awake for hours, staring at the ceiling, empty and numb and craving the touch of someone who never loved him.

it works in that donghyuck replaces old scars with new ones in the shower the next morning, sleep-deprived and desperate to feel something, _anything_ , even if that means the hot spray stinging against his wrists.

it works in that donghyuck feels all of the things he knew he’d feel when this all went wrong, but he’s still unprepared to deal with them.

but that’s donghyuck’s life in a nutshell: once a scar reopens, it never stops splitting.

  


🌩

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much for the all the love on this fic!! makes me super happy to see how much you guys are liking it! hope this chapter didn't disappoint, i know it's a little different ^^ please continue to leave such awesome comments, the feedback really helps!!
> 
> something i realized after 4 chapters is that jaemin is the only one whose last name comes first in this fic, since it's set somewhere in the midwest and everyone goes by firstname lastname,,, oh well writing jaemin na makes me cringe so najaem it is
> 
> hope this flashback chapter wasn't too confusing/unnecessary to anyone, i think that some backstory context is needed plus each scene in this chapter will relate to the scenes in the following chapter,,, *ben wyatt voice* it's about the parallels  
> there will be more flashback chapters to come, and they may or may not be from xuxi or jaem's pov ;)
> 
> also yes donghyuck has had a belly button piercing this entire time muahahahaha


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jaemin scoffs at him. “don’t act like i’ve _interrupted_ anything,” he sneers. “i need your help asking mark to homecoming.”
> 
> “easy. you say ‘you, me, hoco’ and he’ll fall over his feet to say yes,” donghyuck deadpans, pretending to be interested in something on his phone. “it’s not rocket science.”
> 
> “did you really think that i would _ever_ pass up an opportunity to be incredibly dramatic?”
> 
> “at least you’re self-aware.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're back, babey!

“howdy! interested in putting yourself on the ballot for—”

“no.”

donghyuck scowls up at yangyang liu, newswriter for the school’s newsmagazine, sophomore class president, point guard on the basketball team, and currently, pain in his ass. “they ask me this every year, kiddo. it’s never gonna change. sorry you had to be the one to do it this time.”

it’s principal moon’s belief that all students should be represented and appreciated, and that includes inviting every student to nominate themselves for homecoming court. donghyuck wishes he could tell their dear old principal (who he actually quite likes; getting called into the office for a lecture from him were always a blast) that he quite prefers blending into the background, thank you very much. he doesn’t need any recognition or, god forbid, a consolation prize. not that he’d win, anyways.

but every damn time a school dance comes around, the student council members buzz around the cafeteria for a few days, practically begging for kids to sign up so it doesn’t turn out to be one big popularity contest, like it does every fucking year. jaemin’s been on the last two homecoming courts, and thus is a shoe-in for his third and every other possible accolade he could possibly acquire, as per usual. the girls that win are usually rotating members of the cheer squad or the musical theater program. and while donghyuck now has a deeper appreciation for some of those girls, namely his squadmates, he doesn’t understand why the school even bothers trying to showcase the kids that will get left in the dust when it comes time to vote. if anything, it’s borderline humiliation.

yangyang is a nice kid and all, and maybe donghyuck holds an irrational grudge (it’s not _his_ fault jaemin came onto him the second he decided donghyuck wasn’t good enough), but he’s just— _standing_ there, beaming at donghyuck, holding out the clipboard with a practically empty list of names. as expected, jaemin’s is at the top, written in his flashy penmanship. “just give it a shot, dude. we’re giving anyone who signs up some coupons to use at the hotspot for a few weeks.”

“nice incentive,” donghyuck scoffs, even though the thought of getting some deals on caffeine does sound promising. “but i have to pass, man. i’m not even going.”

yangyang sighs, but relents. “yukhei’s your lab partner, right?” he asks out of the blue, the beginnings of a mischievous grin starting to form. “i’ll see if he can change your mind.”

“how did you know about that?” donghyuck asks, but yangyang is already walking away to another table, full of freshmen who look ridiculously eager to scribble their names down.

it doesn’t really matter, anyways, because yukhei wants nothing to do with him, it seems. yukhei’s sitting with his back to him today, two tables away, and donghyuck almost expected it. he didn’t expect it to sting quite this much, though. what has he _done_? nothing, as far as he’s concerned, but yukhei’s abject reticence and spaced-out demeanor during physics today suggested otherwise. it was impossible to get him to respond with anything longer than a couple of words. eventually, donghyuck gave up, and they continued working on their project in silence.

from what he can see, yukhei’s posture still indicates that he’s upset: he’s slouching worse than donghyuck, hunched over his tray almost defensively, as if asking for someone to come and bother him. there are times when donghyuck has to admit that yukhei can be scary, and the downright murderous expression on his face the second he walked in the classroom door earlier was one of them. the rest of the table seems to sense this, as they eat quietly, whispering amongst themselves while shooting yukhei concerned looks.

so yeah, there’s not a chance in hell yukhei would ask him to the dance, or whatever yangyang’s getting at. donghyuck wouldn’t even say yes, anyways, because lee donghyuck does not go to dances.

he’ll admit that the theme of this year’s dance sounds interesting. for every school dance, one of the cultural clubs is chosen by principal moon to be in charge of the theme. there’s a plethora of clubs to represent, given the fact that their school’s population is predominantly asian—even the portion that isn’t is largely nonwhite—which gives the student body many opportunities to learn and appreciate different countries and their festivities. this year is no exception: the japanese club is running homecoming, and they’ve chosen to base the dance around _tanabata_ , aka the star festival. it hasn’t been revealed yet, technically, but donghyuck overheard club members mashiho and nako talking about it in hushed tones during 2nd period intro to pre-calc (he takes ap physics with idiotic seniors, but is stuck in intro to pre-calc with sophomores leagues smarter than him. go figure).

but regardless of how interesting it sounds, donghyuck will not be going, because _lee donghyuck does not go to school dances_. lee donghyuck does not get wasted out of his mind and trash uppity neighborhoods, either (he has a feeling jeno started that rumor just to give him street cred). no, lee donghyuck puts on his comfiest pair of pajamas and snuggles with taeyong while they have an excuse to watch the made for tv version of _anne of green gables_ and its subsequent sequels without mark there to make fun of them for it (now that he thinks about it, the street cred is appreciated).

he sighs and looks down at his tray. today’s meager pickings consist of nachos, an apple, and a tried-and-true carton of chocolate milk, most of which he’s finished. there’s still another 15 minutes of lunch left, which he will spend sitting in silence except for the music he’s listening to and the background noise of incessant chatter. he got the short end of the stick this year; mark, jeno, and jisung ended up in the same lunch period, the one right after his. meanwhile, donghyuck sits alone for 45 minutes everyday, trying and failing not to look upwards to the second tier of the lunchroom and see jaemin, who’s at the table closest to the railing surrounded by most of the cheer squad; or at yukhei, who sits with yangyang, some other basketball guys, and any other miscellaneous friends he’s collected over the years.

he always feels ridiculously lonely at lunch everyday, almost inadvertently pressured by the groups around him to prove that he actually has friends. not that anyone would believe him, anyways. most people think that jeno’s only friends with him for easy access to drugs, like they haven’t been attached at the fucking hip since middle school. some people don’t even realize mark is his brother, which is somewhat understandable given the abundance of lees there are at this school alone, but the fact that people are always _surprised_ about it, like golden boy mark lee could never be related to someone like _donghyuck_.

speaking of mark, though: he’s been more unbearable than usual when it comes to the whole jaemin thing, especially now that it’s ‘official’, which no one even knows, except for those who had the _pleasure_ of eating at the lee’s house last night (and chenle, somehow, but donghyuck is trying to accept that he has a fucking third eye, or something). he’d come waltzing into their bedroom once jaemin had finally left, sighing like a lovesick idiot every five seconds until donghyuck threw a pillow at him and war was waged.

jaemin drove mark to school this morning, though, which is a first. but he parked in the driveway so jeno had to do so on the curb, which forced donghyuck to stomp through damp grass in his newest pair of sneakers. (jeno says that he shouldn’t blame every minor inconvenience on jaemin, but donghyuck believes otherwise). taeyong had nearly thrown himself out his bedroom window to wave enthusiastically at jaemin, just as whipped for the bastard as everyone in donghyuck’s life seems to be these days.

he has yet to tag mark on his instagram, or whatever, which donghyuck has noted (okay, so he occasionally peruses jaemin’s page to see who his new boytoy is. what can he say? he likes torturing himself). without that little black box officially denoting mark’s position as his new plaything, the dream mark’s had for years now will never be fully realized. because here’s the thing: mark isn’t really in love with jaemin. he’s just in love with the popularity dating him will bring, the eyes that would look upon him in awe and envy rather than amused disdain.

it’s not like mark is at donghyuck’s level of transparent invisibility, where everyone knows his name but no one dares speak to him or even acknowledge his existence. no, mark is— _forgettable_ , donghyuck hates to admit. his academic achievements are certainly worth noting, but he’s too shy in public to showcase his true, exuberant, whacky and nerdy self. he prefers to slink into the shadows, dressing like any other semi-fashionable teenager and keeping his head down just to make it through the day.

but donghyuck’s always known that deep down, there’s an itch that mark’s always been desperate to scratch. he wants his fifteen minutes of fame, wants to live the sort of idyllic life every kid grows up seeing on the silver screen. mark’s a hopeless romantic, waiting for the popular guy to take notice of him and sweep him off his feet. maybe he expects a legitimate relationship out of this, but even _mark_ isn’t stupid enough to fall for that.

donghyuck can only hope that mark is smarter than him when it comes to na jaemin.

“care to help me out, duckie darling?”

“ _christ_.”

speak of satan and he shall appear. jaemin’s hovering by donghyuck’s ear, close enough to perturb his music and blow a warm puff of air against his face, sending a chill down his spine. “what do you want?” donghyuck hisses, ripping out one of his airpods.

jaemin scoffs at him. “don’t act like i’ve _interrupted_ anything,” he sneers. “i need your help asking mark to homecoming.”

“easy. you say ‘you, me, hoco’ and he’ll fall over his feet to say yes,” donghyuck deadpans, pretending to be interested in something on his phone. “it’s not rocket science.”

“did you really think that i would _ever_ pass up an opportunity to be incredibly dramatic?”

“at least you’re self-aware.”

“you’re impossible,” jaemin huffs, and cuts off donghyuck’s attempt at interjecting with an exasperated, “and yes, i know that’s _your thing_. just stand over there—” he points at the center of the cafeteria, in front of the large staircase that leads to the second level—“and make sure you get mark to stand there so i can serenade him.”

“you’re going to _sing_?” donghyuck sputters on his chocolate milk. people have been staring at them since the second jaemin sat down. his stupid vineyard vines shirt is tucked into his jeans, cuffed over some fucking boat shoes. it’s a sharp contrast to donghyuck’s black, ring-embellished hoodie, from which hang various chains he’s collected, the dangly feathered earring that adorns his right ear, and the industrial bar piercing that spears his left one. even if the two of them weren’t so infamous on campus, the sheer sight of their aesthetics clashing like this would bring about an equal amount of attention.

jaemin shoves his arm. “no, stupid. i’m playing abba over my speaker—” he holds out his beats pill, as if to further prove how ridiculously rich he is, “—while some of the girls do a flip or two. then i appear at the top of the staircase with my _take a chance on me at hoco?_ sign, slowly descending with everyone’s eyes on me.”

“is this a proposal or your coronation?” donghyuck mumbles, and shoves back at jaemin when he tries to do the same again. “i’ll help, i’ll help,” he sputters as jaemin pinches his side—god, he hates that jaemin still knows all of his erogenous zones—“but only ‘cause it’s for mark.”

“because you’ll never do anything nice for me, i get it,” jaemin snaps, and he sounds—bitter about it. “the period is almost over—make sure you can intercept mark before he gets to the lunchline.”

donghyuck rolls his eyes. “as you wish, princess,” he drawls, and tries to convince himself that he’s imagining the slight hitch in jaemin’s breath.

and with that, he’s off, slinking up the staircase (his ass even looks good in mom jeans, damnit). donghyuck shakes himself out of the stupor jaemin always seems to put him in, and as he turns, he meets yukhei’s gaze.

his expression is unreadable, and it stays that way when their eyes meet, creating an invisible wire between them. it’s one of the first and only times donghyuck has looked at yukhei and hasn’t been able to discern a single thing from his expression. he swears he can almost feel electricity pumping through the eye contact as yukhei continues to stare at him, blankly, until changbin seo, one of his teammates, claps him on the shoulder and brings his attention back to his own table.

donghyuck’s eyes could score him a damn yahtzee, that’s how hard he rolls them. it hasn’t even been a day and he’s already tired of this silent treatment. for all his booksmarts, yukhei’s clearly lacking in emotional intelligence (a hypocritical statement, but a statement nonetheless).

the bell rings, signaling the end of the period, and donghyuck hurries to throw his cardboard tray away into a trash can he passes on his way to the center of the cafeteria. he’s stopped mark here several times, usually for a quick word or two, and he can see his brother approaching in the distance, his sleek head of jet black hair sticking out amongst the crowd of multi-colored ones (yet another way in which mark is unremarkable). he catches sight of donghyuck and he picks up the pace, swerving through the throng to make his way to him.

“everything okay?” he asks as soon as donghyuck’s within earshot, but he hears the opening of an admittedly iconic abba song begin to play, and donghyuck can’t answer even if he had the words to.

he grabs mark by the shoulders and swivels him to face the staircase, where members of the cheer squad are skipping down the steps, smiling widely at mark as they lipsync and do a series of front handsprings that end dangerously close to the nearest lunch tables. flip or two, his ass. this is an entire _routine_. when jaemin had the time to plan this within a week, donghyuck has no idea.

he backs up some, situating himself at the edge of the crowd of students who have gathered around in curiosity. many of them have taken their phones out to record, whispering excitedly to one another.

the warning bell is lost over the chorus of _take a chance on me_ , which is further buried under cheers as jaemin makes his appearance, holding up his impressively-decorated poster board. donghyuck can’t see mark’s face from behind, but he’d bet that he’s blushing something fierce right now.

jaemin reaches the end of the stairs, and he doesn’t have to wait very long for mark’s response. donghyuck sees him enthusiastically nod, then surge forward to—kiss him.

everyone starts hooting and hollering, and the final bell starts ringing, but all of it is dampened in donghyuck’s ears as he watches the poster fall from jaemin’s hands, his eyes widened in shock as his mouth moves against mark’s. almost instinctively, those eyes seek donghyuck out.

it’s like that sweltering june night several months ago, when jaemin had admired him behind hooded lids and, without even trying, seduced donghyuck right into his bed. except now, he’s not kissing some random college pervert—he’s kissing donghyuck’s _brother,_ and he seems to realize this, because after an electrifying moment, he lets his eyes slip shut to return the enthusiasm. donghyuck turns away.

several lunch monitors show up to break up the crowd and direct everyone to where they should be headed. donghyuck has another study hall this period, so he waits for the crowd to dissipate by pulling out his phone, which had started vibrating in his haze.

  


**[donghyuck’s daycare]**

**[do not interact #1]**  
_na jaemin asked MARK to HOCO???_ 👁 👄 👁  
**delivered 11:36** **am**

 **[do not interact #2]**  
_heart_ 💔 _been broke_ 📉 _so many times_ ⏰ _i don’t know_ 🤔 _what to believe_ 💯 _mama_ 👩 _said_ 🗣 _it’s my fault_ 😥 _it’s my fault_ 🤦 _i wear my heart_ ❤ _on my sleeve_ 💪 _i think it’s best_ 👍 _i put my heart_ ❤ _on ice_ 🧊  
**delivered 11:36** **am**

**[daddy donghyuck]**  
_chenle it’s been 30 seconds and u don’t even go here, how did u find out already u DEMON_  
_renjun, sweetie,,, i’m so sry_  
_also someone CHANGE my NAME i RESENT THIS_  
**delivered 11:39** **am**

**[do not interact #1]**  
_you literally have us saved as ‘do not interact’ but okay_  
**delivered 11:41** **am**

**[do not interact #1]** _has changed your name to_ **[na jaemin’s future brother-in-law]**

**[na jaemin’s future brother-in-law]**  
🖕🖕🖕  
**read 11:42** **am**

  


harshly, a meaty shoulder bumps against donghyuck’s. his phone hits the ground with a clatter. “hey, why dontcha keep an eye out for us hobbits, you fuckint ent—”

his wasted lord of the rings-themed insult dies in his throat when he sees the back of yukhei’s favorite blue ralph lauren polo (seriously, either he washes it every night or owns several versions of the same damn shirt) heading in a direction that is decidedly _not_ to his next class (so donghyuck pays attention to the way yukhei goes after lunch, sue him). either donghyuck follows him now, or he resigns himself to silence for god knows how long; he’ll take the former.

(and he’ll admit that he’s kind of missed yukhei’s incessant chatter, okay.)

  


🌩

  


“i don’t even know what an _ent_ is.”

donghyuck stops in his tracks, the bathroom door shutting behind him. “figured you wouldn’t,” he says, cautious.

yukhei’s observing himself in the mirror, knuckles gripping the sides of the sink in front of him. “i’m pathetic, aren’t i?” he laughs, but it’s void of any amusement.

this bathroom is empty as it usually is, since it’s in the music hallway and no one with a brain would willingly share a restroom with a band geek (somewhere in the lunch line, 1st chair flute player mark sneezes). it’s surprisingly clean and doesn’t reek of b.o., contrary to popular belief. donghyuck might take advantage of this privacy more often (no one would willingly be in the same _room_ as donghyuck, so. it’s fitting). 

he takes a couple more steps forward. yukhei doesn’t move, but in the mirror, his pupils are trembling, eyes bloodshot. he looks just as dejected and torn as he had last night when donghyuck looked out his bedroom window to watch yukhei pull out of the driveway. it’s a different setting, with a slightly different, darker mood, but the same inciting incident: na jaemin.

“you’re in love with him,” donghyuck says, almost before he can stop himself.

stillness follows. a hot flush blooms on yukhei’s cheeks at donghyuck’s blunt words, but he makes no movement. “i guess i am,” he replies eventually, his voice weak, and donghyuck hates his heart for clenching, because he _asked_ for this, he _expected_ this—“but it’s not that _simple._ ”

“yeah, because you haven’t spoken in years, and since then he’s formed a fucking harem,” donghyuck mutters, and he can’t even hide his bitterness. yukhei shakes his head a little, like he wants to object, but doesn’t say anything. he probably wanted to try and defend jaemin’s honor—prior to realizing how indefensible it would be.

he loosens his grip, body turning to face donghyuck. “you know, this is part of why i left last night,” he begins, “because i knew you would be like this. i know you’ve had your differences with jaemin, but why does your opinion of _him_ have to change how you think of _me_?”

donghyuck crosses his arms. his tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek, a habit that makes itself known whenever his buttons are being pushed. and _oh_ , they’re being pushed, alright. “care to enlighten me as to when i ever said that?”

“you didn’t have to _say_ anything,” yukhei snaps. “clearly you think i’m an idiot for having feelings for him.

“oh wait!” he continues in faux excitement, raising his index finger like he’s having a lightbulb moment, “you think _everyone_ is an idiot for having feelings in general!”

it’s what everyone associates with donghyuck, so you’d think he’d be used to it by now. but it still catches him unawares sometimes, like he forgets that to some, his outward appearance must dictate the inside. it’s worse when it comes from yukhei, though, someone who was starting to understand—at least, that’s what donghyuck thought. “if you think me feeling sorry for you because you’re in a shitty situation means that i think you’re an _idiot_ , well; _now_ i think you’re a fucking idiot.”

yukhei opens his mouth, but donghyuck isn’t finished. “yes, i have a… _distaste_ for jaemin; however, it’s gone far beyond _differences_ at this point. but i shouldn’t have to _explain_ myself to you. if i really thought less of you because of jaemin, i wouldn’t be standing in front of your dumbass right now. hell, i’d think a lot less of myself than i already do.”

the tail-end of his tirade slips out against donghyuck’s better judgement, but yukhei’s hung out his dirty laundry, and it only feels appropriate for him to do the same, like he needs to prove that he doesn’t have the emotional range of a teaspoon. it causes yukhei’s breath to catch in his throat when he says, “w—wait, you had feelings for—”

“yeah, you’re not special,” donghyuck mutters. he ducks his head, feeling his cheeks heat up. he’s not wearing much makeup today; his skin is actually relatively clear for once, so the layer of foundation that normally protects his dignity isn’t acting as his shield. “i’m not some emotionless wall, you know. i dress like _this_ , how could i not be ridiculously fucking angsty?”

yukhei sighs. he fists his hands in his hair and tugs at it. “i _am_ a fucking idiot,” he admits, after a long stretch of silence. he huffs out another humorless laugh. “god, donghyuck, i just promised you yesterday that i wouldn’t do this shit to you again, but—here i am.”

“here you are,” donghyuck agrees quietly. “i don’t mind being your verbal punching bag, dude. it may surprise you to know i don’t really _want_ to hold grudges.”

“you deserve to hold one against me,” yukhei says, miserably. he slides down against the wall, knees drawing up to his chest. once again, donghyuck is struck by how small and harmless he can make himself seem, despite his height and muscles. “i let my assumptions of you take control of how i treated you for years. and i can’t believe i tried to accuse _you_ of doing the same, when you’ve probably learned to not judge someone based on shallow shit like that.”

“i still do, sometimes,” donghyuck admits. he strides over and sits down across from yukhei, close enough for their knees to knock together. “it’s hard not to. nobody’s perfect, dude, we all know that, but at times it’s difficult to forgive others for their imperfections. i know you mean what you’re saying, but it’ll take a bit more than words for me to forgive you.”

yukhei nods, looking heart-wrenchingly ashamed of himself. “okay,” he breathes. “i understand. i really don’t deserve you.”

donghyuck doesn’t think he’s ever heard that from someone before. it’s—strange, to say the least. not unwelcome, though. yukhei’s finally reverted back to his usual self: readable like an open book. every emotion is visible on his face, and all that it conveys right now is overwhelming sadness. “probably not,” is what he says, because being his sardonic self is the only way he knows how to deal with these situations. “tell you what. i’ll take you to homecoming, and we can have a better time together, than either of us would with jaemin.”

the words sort of leave his lips without warning. donghyuck sure would have _liked_ one, because now he has to deal with the fucking _beam_ that spreads across yukhei’s face, ear to ear, and it’s terribly endearing. “as friends,” he adds, stupidly so, because the grin drops a couple notches in brightness. “plus you’d have to drive me. and possibly pay for tickets. and put up with me and my two left feet. actually, maybe this was a bad idea—”

“no!” yukhei blurts. his face reddens as he continues: “i mean, that’s fine. i don’t mind. it’ll be my way of—making things up to you? unless you don’t want to, i mean.”

he looks down at the ground, worrying at his bottom lip. donghyuck ignores all of the alarm bells telling him to pump the brakes here and says, “of course i want to,” he says softly, and revels in the way yukhei’s expression turns hopeful, with a touch of excitement.

far too late, donghyuck realizes he’s staring. he coughs, hoping that will ease the tension he’s feeling. it doesn’t. “you should probably get to class,” he eventually murmurs to the tile.

with a grunt, yukhei uses the sink as leverage to hoist himself up. he extends a hand to donghyuck, and his fingers are engulfed in yukhei’s gigantic ones as he pulls donghyuck to his feet. “don’t want me to hide out here with you?” yukhei asks, cocking his head to one side.

“i’ve done you enough favors; the gift of my presence has a time limit,” donghyuck replies breezily. a puff of air expels from yukhei’s nostrils; it’s not the full-belly, teeth-baring laugh donghyuck’s used to seeing from him, but he’ll take it. “besides, one of us has to be a good student here. you may as well take one for the team.”

yukhei’s grin is lopsided and wonderful. “but i’m _always_ the good student out of the two of us,” he teases. there’s something about the playfulness in his eyes that makes donghyuck’s stomach churn in an oddly pleasant manner. he speaks over donghyuck’s muttered _i resent that_ with a more serious, “thank you, hyuck. for… being a good—friend.”

his smile turns a little sad, then. “see you around,” he says to donghyuck’s resounding silence, and takes his leave. the sound of loafers thumping against tile and donghyuck’s unsteady breaths echo in the emptiness.

it was pointless for yukhei to waste his time helping donghyuck up, because he sinks to the floor, crouching with his head in his hands. god, what has he gotten himself into? asking _yukhei wong_ to homecoming? the person who’s made him feel (somewhat inadvertently) like shit since fourth fucking grade? the person he only started to make amends with last week?

the person he kind-of-sort-of has stupid, _stupid_ budding feelings for?

he’s setting himself up for failure, for heartbreak. but that’s what he does best, isn’t it? make ridiculous, spur-of-the-moment decisions that land him in a world of hurt. but the damn _smile_ on yukhei’s face, the sheer joy that took form when donghyuck let his half-baked idea leave his lips is impossible to get out of his head. if he can make yukhei that happy, just by taking him to some stupid dance, that would outweigh the pain he knows his heart will endure.

somewhat.

a sharp buzz in his pocket makes him lose his balance, ass colliding with the floor as he checks his messages to see a particularly baffling one:

  


**[donghyuck’s daycare]**

**[do not interact #1]**  
_YOU asked YUKHEI WONG to HOCO???_ 👁 👄 👁  
**delivered 12:05** **am**

**[na jaemin’s future brother-in-law]**  
_hhHHWHATTTHEFUCK_  
**delivered 12:06** **pm**

  


🌩

  


“if you think i’m getting into a car with hell’s gatekeeper, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“aw, i got demoted? last time i checked i was satan’s spawn.”

mark rolls his eyes from the passenger’s seat, which donghyuck is currently crouched in front of. “hyuck, unless you have another ride or you’re in the mood to walk, get in. jaemin agreed to drive you home too as long as you’re _civil_.”

donghyuck glares past mark at satan’s golden boy (because even saying that insult out loud would boost jaemin’s ego). he smiles fakely in return, tapping at the ornamental watch adorning his wrist. “places to be, duckie dear,” he sing-songs.

curse jeno and soccer practice. curse taeyong and his mid-afternoon to close shift tonight too, for that matter. donghyuck can’t really be mad at either of them, of course, but he curses them all the same as he throws open the back door, flinging his bag into the seat beside him as he sinks into the pleather.

he’s… _familiar_ with the backseat of jaemin’s car, to say the least. all things seemed to lead here, when he was with jaemin. every casual evening outing, every attempt at a heartfelt conversation; regardless of what it was, jaemin would always shut donghyuck up with his mouth, shove his back against the very side window donghyuck looks out of now, and let words get lost in heady groans and fuzzy thoughts.

never once has he sat in the backseat of jaemin’s car like just another passenger. he supposes he hasn’t sat in the front seat like just another passenger either. there was a time that donghyuck wasn’t _just_ anyone to jaemin. but he figures that time has passed, now.

and right now it’s mark that occupies the passenger’s seat, a body to occupy it just like donghyuck had been. just like the other boys jaemin’s had before either of them. their hands are tangled in the center console, the pad of mark’s thumb sweeping along the breadth of jaemin’s pointer finger, and it’s so intimate and irksome that donghyuck can’t fucking _breathe_.

he pulls out his phone, desperate for an escape, but the first thing he sees when he opens up instagram makes his stomach drop:

[](https://ibb.co/Y85Bv50)

  
Liked by **chenlelegendz, huang_likeahorse** and **532 others**  
 **jaemin.na000** he said yes!  
View all 103 comments  
 **markymarklee99** 😊  
 **hyuckleberry** again, not a proposal  
3 hours ago  


he doesn’t know what makes him type out the comment and post it. he _does_ know that by tomorrow the screenshot of it will have made its way to every gossip whore’s gallery, but whatever. let the world see his pettiness. his immaturity.

pettiness and immaturity. that’s what mark has and will always believe that his and jaemin’s feud was built upon. and sure, maybe in the beginning it was. just two kids who were used to basking in all the attention at home, combating for the spotlight on the cheer squad. to anyone else it’s so clearly rooted in childish jealousy and schoolyard taunts, but god, is it so much more than that.

it’s donghyuck feeling like he was never good enough, like he was second best. like he was nothing but a piece of gum stuck under na jaemin’s and his goddamn mother’s shoes. it’s the hot flush that donghyuck was hardly ever without during practices, because jaemin took every opportunity to berate him for his abilities, his shoddy home, his single mother, his “average” looks. it’s the fact that the sharp, quick-witted attitude, the arsenal of insults, everything about his personality that jaemin detests today were fostered by _him_ , all those years ago. it’s donghyuck becoming a person he’s not proud of, all because of a _childish, immature,_ and _petty_ feud.

it’s donghyuck choosing his own goddamn brother over a boy, like he assumed a rational person would do, only for his brother to turn right around and choose that boy over him instead.

but he tries so fucking hard to stay calm, to not let his suppressed anger win out. because mark doesn’t _know_ that donghyuck fell in love with jaemin this past summer, and he underestimated just how deep their rivalry ran. it’s not his _fault_ , not when mark’s the one who’s hopelessly pined after jaemin for far longer than donghyuck ever has, not when he’s finally getting what he’s always wanted. it’s understandable that he would put everything else aside to have jaemin. even donghyuck’s feelings.

would donghyuck do the same? he tries to say he wouldn’t, but he already has, hasn’t he? the second he let na jaemin lead him to his bedroom he let any and all thoughts of mark’s pathetic crush fade away. perhaps he didn’t think that his brother’s feelings were as serious as they so clearly are now. but is that really a good excuse?

so they’ve both broken the unspoken rules of brotherhood; donghyuck much, much more deliberately so. he _knew_ , he knew how mark felt and he still chose to let jaemin encapsulate him in every sense of the word. maybe he deserves the pain that comes to him as he watches jaemin squeeze lightly at mark’s hand (though he doesn’t notice jaemin’s eyes flicker back to him in the rearview mirror, watching for his reaction).

so donghyuck can’t be mad at mark on his own behalf. he can, however, be absolutely infuriated on someone else’s:

[](https://ibb.co/hdxrYwv)

  
Liked by **chenlelegendz, markymarklee** and **3 others**  
 **huang_likeahorse** ⱧɆ₳Ɽ₮ 💔 ฿ɆɆ₦ ฿ⱤØ₭Ɇ 📉 ₴Ø ₥₳₦Ɏ ₮ł₥Ɇ₴ ⏰ ł ĐØ₦’₮ ₭₦Ø₩ 🤔 ₩Ⱨ₳₮ ₮Ø ฿ɆⱠłɆVɆ 💯 ₥₳₥₳ 👩 ₴₳łĐ 🗣 ł₮’₴ ₥Ɏ ₣₳ɄⱠ₮ 😥 ł₮’₴ ₥Ɏ ₣₳ɄⱠ₮ 🤦 ł ₩Ɇ₳Ɽ ₥Ɏ ⱧɆ₳Ɽ₮ ❤ Ø₦ ₥Ɏ ₴ⱠɆɆVɆ 💪 ł ₮Ⱨł₦₭ ł₮’₴ ฿Ɇ₴₮ 👍 ł ₱Ʉ₮ ₥Ɏ ⱧɆ₳Ɽ₮ ❤ Ø₦ ł₵Ɇ 🧊  
View all 7 comments  
 **chenlelegendz** this is pathetic even for your spam  
 **markymarklee** hahaha love that song !  
 **hyuckleberry** renjun,,,,,,,,, sweetie,,,,,,,,  
2 hours ago  


he feels equal parts anger and pity for renjun. yes, he can be annoying, and dealing with him is more trouble than it’s worth. but donghyuck has known renjun nearly his entire life, as the irritating cousin of sicheng, one of taeyong’s best friends, and feels a familial sense of loyalty to him. that means sticking by his side through all fifteen years of renjun’s even more piteous infatuation with mark.

renjun always loved to trail after mark wherever he went, even though mark, in all his obliviousness, never gave him the time of day. it’s a little sad, and incredibly disturbing to donghyuck, who could never fathom how someone could harbor such strong feelings for his brother. at least renjun has chenle to wax poetic to, because hearing how hot his own flesh and blood supposedly is on a daily basis is the one thing he refuses to do out of allegiance to his friend.

renjun isn’t afraid to utterly humiliate himself if it’s at mark’s expense. he’s been mark’s “date” to every dance since middle school, even though by the end of the night he always came to donghyuck in tears. he bought mark the most presents every year for his birthday, and always showered him in compliments each day. rather than getting him anywhere, however, it merely boosted mark’s fragile self-esteem.

donghyuck can say these things in confidence. sure, he loves mark to death, but that doesn’t mean he’s blind to how renjun’s been shunted to the side for fifteen goddamn years. and mark hardly appreciated him for all that he gave, leaving renjun by himself to dance with someone else halfway through the night and never repaying a single one of the flattering remarks renjun has ever given. it’s ridiculous in a horrifyingly miserable way, how heedless mark is.

up until now, renjun tried to hold out hope that someday, mark would come to his senses and realize renjun has been there all along. but jaemin had to come in and ruin everything for everyone, as usual, and donghyuck doesn’t know how to fix things this time. a small part of him always hoped mark and renjun would end up together, but now he isn’t so sure. this might be renjun’s wake-up call to the fact that mark doesn’t deserve someone like him.

speaking of not deserving people: donghyuck can’t get yukhei’s words out of his head. donghyuck has been nothing but crummy to yukhei (who was also crummy to him in return); how is _yukhei_ the one who thinks he isn’t worthy of forgiveness?

[](https://ibb.co/87R0gKF)  


  
Liked by **chenlelegendz, markymarklee** and 706 others  
 **lucas_xx444** ahaha ,,, fuck  
View all 29 comments  
 **yangyang_x2** MY MAN 😎  
 **bin_seo** lookin’ good chief 🥵  
5 days ago  


donghyuck can admit that he’s stalked yukhei’s thirst trap of an instagram several times before, thankfully never having liked a picture that’s three years old or something mortifying like that. it’s just—yukhei is attractive and one of donghyuck’s several types to a T and it’s hard to ignore that, okay?

god, he’s screwed. he has dumb feelings for two dumb boys who couldn’t care less about him. he’s even taking yukhei to homecoming to get over jaemin. oh christ, he’s turning into _renjun_.

he looks back at his most recent messages with yukhei and sighs. yukhei’s becoming _comfortable_ with him and it hurts more than donghyuck wants it to.

 **[xuxi 🍣]**  
_are you the matching suit type?  
i suppose our colors would be all black?  
what about boutonnières? should i bring you a pair of colored converse instead?_  
**seen 2:13** **pm**

**[☠🔞 donghyuck 🔞☠]**  
_all-black is in these days, of course we both have to look as chic as possible_  
_if u do that i will kill u_  
_just,,, a normal flower thingy is fine??_  
**delivered 2:26** **pm**

**[xuxi 🍣]**  
_y’know, for such a fashionista i thought you’d be micromanaging this whole thing a little more_  
**seen 2:30** **pm**

**[☠🔞 donghyuck 🔞☠]**  
_i miss the days when u were intimidated by me_  
**delivered 2:34** **pm**

**[xuxi 🍣]**  
_oh i bet_  
_changing the emojis in your name as we speak_  
**read 2:36** **pm**

**[xuxi 🍣]** _has changed your name to_ **[🦄🌸 donghyuck 🌸🦄]**

the bell had rung after that, and donghyuck was at a loss for words as to how to respond. he still isn’t used to a popular kid like yukhei treating him like—a friend. like he’s more than muted colors and heavy eyeliner. like he’s someone worth knowing.

and donghyuck’s starting to believe that.

  


🌩

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big big shoutout to chan ([whitenoisce](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitenoisce/pseuds/whitenoisce)) for giving me a tutorial on how to format the insta posts (which i hope you all liked)! if you somehow haven't read any of her amazing fics you are now obligated to, it's sooo worth it!! tysm chan, ily <3
> 
> also: let me know if there's any songs that may remind you of this fic! i'm compiling a spotify playlist to share with you guys :) for example, [august](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=nn_0zPAfyo8) by taylor swift perfectly describes nahyuck's summer romance and how it ended?? ugh i love it, def recommend the song and her entire album!
> 
> as always, comments are very much appreciated! i hope this chapter was worth the wait, i apologize for that :(

**Author's Note:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/orangypop) || [cc](https://curiouscat.me/orangypop) || [kofi](https://ko-fi.com/orangypop)


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